


Baby Love

by Niamh



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-10
Updated: 2012-05-15
Packaged: 2017-11-03 10:12:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 36
Words: 129,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/380258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niamh/pseuds/Niamh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seventeen year old Buffy Summers is a High School Senior with a boyfriend and life is great, until she realizes one morning that, well, life changes fairly quickly, especially when you find out something you've been denying is real.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. There's my path

**Author's Note:**

> This story is just to satisfy my own personal kink (well, okay not just my personal kink). So, without much further ado, here’s my contribution to the wealth of all-human Spike and Buffy stories. The title and quote are from The Gilmore Girls. The characters belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy and all those other huge corporations that have a piece of the Buffy empire, me, I own nothing but the plot. . . and the kink.

  
  
**_First:   There’s my path.  
  
There are many paths in life.   
There's the "Hey, you're cute, sure,   
I'll marry you after graduation and med school"   
and the "Can you drive Susie to soccer today,   
'cause I've got a pedicure?" path.   
And then there's my path,   
where I found myself 16 and pregnant   
and I realized   
"I have to get a job,   
I have to raise a kid and being me,   
I have to do it all by myself."   
Not easy.   
But the thing with my path was,   
when I reached the end,   
I turned around and realized   
I'd ended up someplace really good.   
    Lorelei, the Gilmore Girls_**  
  
  
  
Buffy stared at herself in the mirror.  The same face she’d seen every morning since she was tall enough to see into the mirror stared back at her.  But she wasn’t the same girl she’d been even yesterday.  
  
Because yesterday she’d still been pretending.  Still fooling herself what she knew wasn’t real.  Today though, she couldn’t pretend anymore.  
  
The proof she was different was on the counter in a little blue and white container.  With two blue lines.  And in case she needed any more proof, the nausea she fought all the time overwhelmed her.  
  
Leaning over the toilet, she emptied the contents of her belly, even though there wasn’t much there.  
  
Wiping her mouth after brushing her teeth, which was a mistake, coz, hey that didn’t sit well with baby. . . Buffy fought back a tear.  
  
 _This is so not good.  What the hell am I gonna do?  Mom’s not home, won’t be home until Wednesday.  Maybe Willow will be home . . ._ she didn’t really want to tell anyone, not even Riley and it was just as much his as it was hers.  She wanted her mommy.  This time she let the tears fall.  _Mommy wasn’t going to be happy about this._ And who knew if her father was even gonna care.  
  
She had some serious thinking to do.  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
The next couple of days passed by in a blur, consisting of her waking up bleary-eyed and nauseous, getting dressed, throwing up, going to school, throwing up some more, falling asleep in almost every class including English (which was her favorite), fighting with Riley and just . . . thinking.  
  
She didn’t want to have an abortion.  That much she’d decided pretty much right away.  What she wasn’t sure about was whether she could keep this baby or give it up for adoption.  
  
Buffy found herself addressing her inner thoughts to the baby one morning on her way to school and realized she didn’t want to give this baby away.  
  
 _Okay.  Two decisions made.  Now what baby?  
_  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
  
Buffy was sitting in English, listening to Mr. Stevenson read poetry.  Normally she paid attention – it was hard not to pay attention in his class, especially when it was poetry slam week or playwrights section – but even when he was dissecting sentences it was great.  It certainly didn’t hurt that Mr. Stevenson was, hands down, the hottest teacher ever, or that he had this voice that just took you away.  But Buffy wasn’t paying attention today.  Today, like every other day this week, Buffy had fallen asleep.  
  
Mr. Stevenson watched her, beginning to get really worried about the tiny blonde.  She was usually very attentive and had great things to contribute to his class but for the last week or so, she’d been too quiet.  Will was worried about her.  
  
Flicking his eyes around his classroom, he realized no one had yet noticed she was asleep, not even her overly dense boyfriend, one Riley Finn.  Deciding not to embarrass her, but determined to find out what was wrong, Will went back to reading Robert Burns out loud.  
  
After class was done, he knelt down next to her chair, gently shaking her awake.  “Buffy?  Miss Summers?  C’mon, wake up.”  
  
Took her a couple of minutes, but eventually very groggy Buffy opened her eyes.  A sleepy smile crossed her face as she leaned heavily on her arm.  “Hey.”  
  
“Buffy, you need to wake up.”  His big hand cupped her shoulder and she smiled dreamily at him again.  
  
For a moment Will was struck by her.  She was adorable, but he knew better than to allow much more than that thought.  _Student, Will.  In trouble.  Leave it alone.  
_  
Buffy shifted, trying to get more comfortable.  “Lemme sleep more, ‘kay?”  
  
“C’mon, Buffy.  You need to wake up and tell me what’s wrong.”  Will was getting more worried the longer it took to wake her.  
  
“Wanna sleep.  Nice voice.  Talk to me, teach?”  She _was_ waking up, though Buffy didn’t want to.  She’d fallen asleep to the deep husky tones of his voice and that had caused all sorts of nice quick dreams.  
  
“You really need to wake up now.”  His voice was soo nice and he was soo close.  Buffy could smell his aftershave and cologne and . . . _uhoh_.  Her eyes flew open and a hand covered her mouth.  She gaped at him, pushing him away, scrambling up out of her chair.  She wasn’t going to make it. . . _oh god._   Running from a stunned Mr. Stevenson, Buffy barely made it into the boy’s bathroom before violently throwing up.  
  
He got to his feet slowly, his brain trying to deny what he’d just witnessed.  He’d never seen a girl or woman react that way to waking up.  Buffy had nearly thrown up in his lap.  
  
Waiting patiently outside the bathroom, listening to the sound of a retching teenager, Will had to admit the evidence.  Evidently Miss Summers had a potentially big problem.  
  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
She so didn’t want to go out there and face him.  _Maybe I can just pretend. . . . and . . ._ checking her reflection in the small mirror, Buffy realized this just wasn’t an option.  She felt like she looked, crappy with a heaping side order of yucky.  
  
Putting on a brave face, Buffy headed for the door.  He was waiting for her, just like she figured.  Without a word he held out his hand and Buffy looked at him blankly until she realized he had a package of lifesavers in his hand.  
  
Smiling at him gratefully she said, “Thanks.”  
  
Without any other words he led her back into his classroom.  
  
“I’m not going to pressure you.  Although if you want to talk, I’m here any time you want, okay?”  
  
“Yeah.”  Ducking her head, Buffy quickly gathered up her books.  Turning to leave, Buffy said quietly, "Thanks, Mr. Stevenson.”  
  
“Buffy.  I meant what I said.  And I promise not to say anything.”  
  
But she was already gone.  
  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
  
Instead of going onto the rest of her classes, Buffy headed home.  Getting busted by her favorite teacher was not part of her plan.  She didn’t want anyone to know just yet – she hadn’t even told Willow  – and they were best friends – or her mom.  _Mom doesn’t know.  How am I gonna tell her?  
_  
Lost in her own thoughts, Buffy didn’t realize she was home until her feet hit the front steps.  In a daze, she put her books down on the dining room table, sat down and promptly burst into tears.  
  
Which kind of explained why she didn’t hear her mother when she came in and why she jumped when her mother touched her shoulder.    
  
“Buffy?  Honey, what’s wrong?”  
  
Weepy hazel eyes looked up at Joyce and Buffy crumpled at the concern written on her mother’s features.  “Mom?  Mommy?”  
  
“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”  Joyce pulled her daughter close, running her hand over Buffy’s head.  
  
“Oh, Mom.  I’m pregnant.”  
  
Joyce froze listening to her daughter’s heartbroken sobs.  Disappointment flooded her, but then her little girl’s sobs broke through.  Whatever else, Buffy was her little girl who right now needed comforting more than she needed to be yelled at.  Rocking her back and forth all the while murmuring nonsense words, Joyce held onto her daughter.   
  
She would wait until later to start yelling.  
  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
  
“All right.  All right.  Stop yowling at me, you ungrateful hounds.”  Will grabbed the leashes from the hook, then stooped down to corral his dogs.  “C’mon Clem.  Get over here.”  Getting his feet untangled from the leashes he stepped over the floppy-eared basset hound he’d named after one of his uncles and whistling for Kennedy, the nasty high-strung Jack Russell terrier he’d inherited from his mother, William headed out the door.  
  
He and the dogs set out on their usual mile walk.  Only minutes into their nightly ritual, his mind roved back over his day.  It had been uneventful, except for those few minutes worrying about Buffy Summers.  _Poor kid.  
_  
Seventeen years old.  And pregnant.  And adorable as hell when she slept – and even cuter when she woke up.  He caught himself before his dirty mind went further down that path.  _Student, Will.  She’s your student.  Knock off the noticing thought.  
_  
 _Pregnant.  She’s a teenager and she’s pregnant.  Focus on that, Will._ He’d meant it earlier that she could come to him – he’d keep her secret, would give her someone who wouldn’t judge her – which she was no doubt getting a lot of at home.    
  
He really did hope she was okay.


	2. Walking After Midnight

  
  
_**Second.  Walking after midnight.**_  
  
  
  
She was so far from okay it was a whole other dimension.  Her mother had given her a twenty-four hour reprieve from the lectures and recriminations for some bizarre reason.  But tonight was a different story.  
  
Her mom had started with “sit down sweetheart we need to talk” and everything had gone straight down hill from here.  And it wasn’t like there was any dialogue either – was just her mom, listing everything that was wrong with the situation, everything that was wrong with her and finally winding down to the big finish “what did I do that was so bad as a mother to deserve a daughter like you?”  
  
No, “ _what can we do about this?_ ”  No, “ _have you thought about this?_ ” No, “ _sweetheart everything will be okay, we’ll work through this together_.” Nope.  No sympathy at all.  
  
Just lots of yelling.  Whole heaps of anger.  Finger pointing and blame.  
  
And when Buffy had just cried, Joyce had gotten angrier and sent her to her room.  Buffy had locked her bedroom door and slipped out the window.  She wasn’t worried about getting hurt.  This was easy.  She’d been sneaking out since she was fifteen, since they’d first moved from Los Angeles.  
  
Most nights she just hung out at Restfield Cemetery, writing and talking to the headstones.  On the harder nights, when she and her mother were fighting and Joyce headed for the liquor cabinet, Buffy would walk through the cemeteries, through the woods or wherever she could go to be alone.  
  
Tonight was a walking night.  She’d skipped out of school today, not wanting to face anyone, especially him. . . Mr. Stevenson.  
  
 _How embarrassed am I?  Fall asleep in his class then practically barf on the cutest teacher in school.  Bet that would’ve gotten me out of class for the rest of the week._  
  
A soft sigh escaped from her as she moved through Restfield.  The nausea was gone, for the moment, but she learned in the eight weeks she’d been pregnant that always having pretzels was a good thing.  
  
 _How the hell am I gonna tell Riley?  What’s he gonna say?  This is so hard.  Okay. . . Hey Riley, missed you. . . I’m pregnant.  Nope.  Riley, we need to talk.  Ew.  Nope that was parental speak for not good.  Something else.  Hey.  I know.  Riley?  What does je suis enciente mean?  Shit.  He doesn’t speak French.  Ohhkay. Dude.  I’m knocked up.  Yeah, you know, bun in the oven?  Yup. That’s me._  
  
Unaware she’d been talking out loud, Buffy also didn’t know she had an audience.  “Miss Summers?  What are you doing out here at this time of night?”  
  
His voice startled her, making her knees wobble a bit when she turned around to face him.  “And in a cemetery?”  
  
Mr. Stevenson always wore dress pants or chinos and a button down shirt and tie, his hair was always combed back and this man?   Whoever this man was he looked just like Mr. Stevenson except for the all black and jeans . . .  and spiky curls.  
  
Buffy stared at him, her mind completely blank.  Two years she’d crushed on this man and now?  She found out he was even hotter after dark than he was in daylight.  
  
 _Oh my god_.  Her heart was thumping away and it wasn’t because she’d just gotten busted.  Nope.  Her heart was pounding away because he was hot.  _Sizzling_.  
  
“Mr. Stevenson?”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Oh . . um. . .” _whooeey.  Ohmygod.  He’s so damn cute.  Why couldn’t I be older?_  
  
“Why are you out at this time of night?”  Will hadn’t missed the dejected slope of her shoulders before he’d called out to her, and although he couldn’t see her reddened eyes,  all the same he figured she’d been crying.  
  
“I, uh, you know. . um.  Snuck out of my room after fighting with my mom.”  She started walking again, this time back into Restfield instead of out of it.    
  
“Do you want to talk about it?”  Will caught up to her in three strides.  
  
She shrugged.  “Not much to say.  Mom thinks I’m a screw up and well . . .” she refused to look at him, instead staring down at her feet.  
  
“I don’t think you’re a screw up.  You’re smart, funny and cute.  You should do well in college.”    
  
“Mr. Stevenson.   I’m,” she hesitated, then said, “I’m not going to college, at least not right after graduation.”  
  
“Why not?”  He half turned to look at her, a question in his eyes.  
  
“I’m pregnant.”  There.  She’d admitted it to a third person now.  “And I’m not having an abortion.  I think I want to keep the baby.”  
  
He’d had his suspicions yesterday.  After all, he hadn’t grown up under a rock and he was a fairly experienced guy.  “That’s why you and your mom . . .”  
  
“Were fighting.”  Buffy sighed.  ‘Not sure what she wants me to do.  But isn’t it like my decision?”  
  
“Yeah it is, but you’re only seventeen.”  
  
“I’ll be eighteen in January.”  He looked at her, saying nothing.  
  
“It’s almost November.   How far along are you?”  
  
“About eight weeks.  I think.”  She paused, suddenly embarrassed to be talking about all this with him.  
  
“Hey.  This stays between us.  I promise.  Not telling your mother or anyone else.”  Will reached out to touch her arm.  “I promise.”  
  
“Thanks.”  She stayed like that for a minute, just letting him touch her.  “I’m just not sure what to do, you know?  All my mom and I did was fight.  We really didn’t talk about anything.”  
  
Breaking away from him, she walked away.  “It’s just so hard.”  
  
“I can only imagine.  Have you told anyone else?  Does . . ah,” he hesitated in case his supposition was wrong, “does the baby’s father know?”  
  
She blew out a breath, ruffling her hair in the process.  “No.  Haven’t got that much courage yet.  But I guess I need to, don’t I?”   
  
“He should know.”  Will watched her, his hands shoved into his pockets.  She really was cute.  Just his type too, tiny, petite and . . . well, female.   He shook his head, determined to not think of her that way. _Still seventeen, still your student and therefore, you wanker, very, very – very off limits._ “So have you thought about how you’re going to tell him?”  
  
“Yup.  Thought about it lots.  Haven’t got an idea.”  Turning to face him, she asked, “Any ideas?”  
  
“Unfortunately, no.”  
  
They lapsed into silence, neither one of them willing to break it.  Buffy was trying not to squeal like a thirteen year old, trying to be at least a little bit mature around him, while Will was trying very hard to remember she wasn’t a date, that she was only seventeen and far too young for him.  
  
“So how come you’re out here in Restfield?”  
  
“Short cut between my place and the Espresso Pump.”  
  
“Oh,” her voice was flat, almost disappointed.  
  
“Wednesday night is open mic – it’s sort of become poetry slam night.”  
  
“So you read poems?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Really?  Whose?”  
  
Oh, now he had to admit it.  “My own.”  
  
“You write poetry?” _How cool was that?  We’ve got something in common!_ “So you write.  That’s cool.”  
  
Feeling kind of stupid for asking, she did anyway.  “So what do you really think of mine?”  
  
He thought for a minute, trying to give her an honest answer.  “Your stuff is really good.  Not typical for a teen-aged girl.  It’s got depth to it, and your subject matter is never trite.”  
  
“So you like it.”  
  
She really was adorable, looking for his approval.  “Yeah, Buffy, I really like your poetry.”  
  
“Can I hear some of yours?”  
  
If he didn’t know better he’d swear she was flirting with him.  Part of him was enjoying this – a big part of him.  “Ahh. . . you sure?”  
  
“C’mon, Mr. Stevenson, it’s not fair.”  
  
Against his better judgment, the words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.  “Outside of class, Buffy, you can call me Will.”  
  
The blush that bloomed across her face was beautiful and Will was inordinately proud of the fact he’d made her do it.  
  
“So, Will, are you gonna share a poem with me?”  
  
He hesitated again and Buffy pulled on his arm, trying to get him to cave.  “All right.  All right.  But then I’m walking you home, okay?”  
  
She looked crestfallen but after a moment’s thought agreed.  “Okay.  I’m all listening Buffy now.”  
  
His voice was whiskey rough, laced with pain and some other emotion Buffy couldn’t begin to put a name too, though he infused the words with so much emotion as he spoke.  
  
“black morass,   
whirling spirals of oily darkness  
grief unspoken,   
swallowed whole  
unholy birth of rage and hurt  
screams shouted silently  
voice aches,   
sounds gone  
no one hears  
no one listens  
swirling, spiraling, downward, inward  
crippling  
grinning death’s spectre  
here is the fear, here is the anger  
defiled, putrid   
rotten   
me”  
  
  
“Wow.” Buffy was impressed.  He was good.  
  
“And you think my stuff is good?”  She was incredulous.  
  
“Your poetry is good.  You write pretty well for a girl your age.”  
  
“Gee, Will, you make it sound like I’m so much younger than you – like you’re ancient or something.”  
  
He laughed for a moment, telling her, “Ten years is a big gap.”  
  
“Yeah, but you’re not like over the hill or anything.”    
  
Will threw back his head and laughed out loud.  “No, I’m not anywhere near that hill.”  
  
Before long, they were back at her house and neither one of them wanted to go.  “See you in class tomorrow?”    
  
Will knew he was pushing it, but he wanted to make sure she was going to be okay before letting her go.  “Buffy?  You are going to be in class?”  
  
“Yeah.  Mom won’t let me cut out again.”  Abruptly, everything crashed back down again, reality rearing its ugly head.  “I’m gonna have to tell Riley soon too.  I just don’t know how.”  
  
“Listen, if you need to talk, and I promise I won’t say anything, you can talk to me.  About anything.”  Will held her arm, holding her back from bolting toward the house.  
  
She smiled at him wistfully, then leaned up, standing on her toes and kissed his cheek.  “Thanks Will.”  
  
And just like that she was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the subject matter bothers some of you, but I did state in the first chapter that it was about a kink. The quote is from a Patsy Cline song, (and I love Patsy, so you should go listen). Oh yeah, the poem? It's mine. I wrote it.


	3. I'm pregnant.  Can you pass the turnips?

  
  
**_Third.  I’m pregnant.  Can you pass the turnips?_**  
  
  
Another morning throwing up, another morning when brushing her teeth was an impossible task.  Just the thought of toothpaste was enough to make her heave all over again.  Grabbing the peppermints, Buffy settled for freshening her breath that way.  _Maybe later, baby, you’ll let Mommy brush her teeth.  Think you could do that?_  
  
The four block walk to school was over quickly and all too soon Buffy found herself outside the doors.  Steeling her back she realized she really didn’t want to sit through classes today.  Maybe she could skip everything and just go to Will’s. . . Mr. Stevenson’s class.  
  
She’d have seriously tried it if Principal Snyder hadn’t just walked past her, sneering about juvenile delinquents and being late for school.  Head bowed, Buffy aimed for the front doors, forcing a smile to her features.  Someone’s perfume wasn’t mixing well with somebody else’s failure to wash and once inside the hallway she was once more fighting nausea.  
  
Waving at Willow and hurrying past their group of friends, Buffy headed straight for the bathroom, almost running.  _No . .. No . . . no . . .no. . .not now, please, not now.  C’mon, baby, can’t you give mommy a break, just once?_  
  
But baby wasn’t listening and Buffy bumped into whoever was blocking the doorway to the bathroom, her stomach nearly in her mouth.  
  
“Buffy?”  One look at her and Will practically pushed her into the bathroom, which happened to be the teacher’s and then stood guard, barring anyone else entrance.    
  
Willow had followed Buffy and saw the whole exchange.  Approaching the door, she asked, “Mr. Stevenson?  Is Buffy okay?”  
  
He knew they were best friends, but didn’t know how much the young red-head knew.  Shaking his head, Will ushered her inside after checking the emptying hallway.  
  
  
*************************************************************************  
 _  
  
How many times am I gonna come close to throwing up on him before I actually do it?_ Wiping her mouth, Buffy stood up, then quickly bent over the bowl again.  
  
 _Damnit.  This just sucks.  C’mon, baby, knock it off.  I’m never gonna get anything done if you don’t leave me alone.  I know you’re here.  Please stop.  Please?_  
  
Tears slid from her eyes, just as the door opened and Willow’s tentative “Buffy?”  echoed in the bathroom.  
  
 _Oh no . . ._ bending once more over the bowl, Buffy heaved the last of her stomach into the toilet.  
  
“You okay?”  
  
 _Crap._   She hadn’t locked the stall behind her and now Willow caught her with her head down, spewing up her guts.  
  
“Guess not.”  Pausing a second, the other girl dropped her books, then reached out to pull Buffy’s hair back, her free hand rubbing Buffy’s back.  
  
“You need help?”  
  
“No.  I’ll be okay in a minute.”  Resting her head against the cool steel wall, Buffy struggled to get her breathing and stomach under control.  
  
They waited in silence together, Willow for once not babbling away in nervousness.  Buffy slumped to the floor, her back against the steel divider, facing the opposite wall.  “Thanks, Willow.”  
  
“No biggie.  You okay now?”  Willow was facing her, searching Buffy’s profile.  
  
“I’m better.  Nowhere near okay though.”  A pause, then, “Really far from okay.”  
  
“Wanna talk?”  Something was really wrong.  She’d never seen Buffy like this, not even when she and Owen had broken up.  
  
“Promise me you’ll keep quiet about this?  Only two other people know.”  Buffy’s voice was flat, almost monotone, which was scary.  
  
“Yup.”  
  
“I’m serious, Willow.  No one.  Not Cordy.  Not Xander.  No one.”  Buffy finally turned to look at her, a steely look in her eyes that Willow hadn’t ever seen before.  
  
“I promise.  Buffy, what’s wrong?”  
  
“I’m pregnant.”  There, it was out now.  Now Willow knew also.  
  
“Ohmygod.  Oh my god.  _Oh.  My.  God_.”  Willow was the one hyperventilating, which struck Buffy as very funny.  At least for a moment.    
  
“Breathe, Willow.  It helps.”  Buffy was tired now.  She wanted a nap.  Wanted to curl up in Stevenson’s class and listen to his voice while she napped.  She wondered if he’d do that sometime, just talk while she cat-napped.  
  
“Does Riley know?”   Willow was floored.  _This was not good._   “What are you going to do?”  _Wow this was just really bad._   “Oh! What did . . . did your mom say?  You did tell her, right?”  
  
“Slow down, Wills.  No, I haven’t told Riley yet.”  She sighed.  “I’m keeping the baby.  And Mom did nothing but yell.  For like an hour straight.  All she did was yell.”  
  
She didn’t know how long Mr. Stevenson had been in the bathroom, though Buffy figured it was a while.  She thought she heard the door after Willow had dropped her books but she knew by the time she was sitting down that he was nearby.  
  
When the two were silent for a while, Will knew he had to get them moving.  “Miss Summers?  Miss Rosenberg?  You need to get moving.”  
  
Getting reluctantly to her feet, Buffy watched as Willow struggled with the idea of being in a bathroom with a man, a teacher no less.   
  
Will slipped out the door as soon as he heard movement, knowing Buffy would be out shortly.  
  
He hadn’t meant to intrude, but the only way to look the teacher’s bathroom was from the inside and he didn’t think either girl actually knew that.  
  
Willow was still trying to come to grips with Buffy’s announcement.  She didn’t even care that Mr. Stevenson had been in the bathroom with them.  
  
  
****************************************************************  
  
  
He’d handed them both hall passes and notes for the teachers of their first period classes, saying only, “Just make sure you’re in the rest of the day,” before heading off to his own classroom.  
  
Hugging Willow, Buffy whispered “thanks” and then quickly, before she lost her courage, asked, “Will you stay close at lunchtime, when I tell Riley?”  
  
“You’re gonna tell him here?”  Willow looked around at the hallway. “‘Sure you wanna do this here?”  
  
Buffy sighed, saying, “Gotta do it when I have the courage, you know?”  She really wasn’t looking forward to this at all, but Riley shouldn’t really be the last to know and well, _this place has ears_.  No telling who overheard them, or saw her nearly throw up on Mr. Stevenson.  
  
“All right.  I’ll be there.”  
  
Buffy watched her best friend walk away, realizing for the first time that everything in her life had changed.  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
Will had only gone into the bathroom because Careers teacher Anya Jenkins had come bearing down the hallway aiming for the bathroom with a single-mindedness that he usually found more than a bit off-putting.  _Bloody forthright woman, but can’t have her interrupting the girls._  
  
Overhearing their conversation had been unintentional then, though he was glad Buffy was telling someone else who would be on her side.  _This isn’t going to be easy for her._  
  
He’d gone to his classroom, after leaving them, got his first period students scrambling over a pop quiz, written the girls notes and was back in his classroom before the period was half over.   
  
And now that it was nearly fifth and lunch, Will found himself worrying all over again.  He had a feeling that something was about to go very wrong, and he couldn’t put his finger on what – _Did I forget something?  Leave the door unlocked or shit. . .  I’ve no idea why there’s this niggling . . . bloody hell._  
  
 _That’s what has me worried._ Buffy Summers was sitting in the courtyard, obviously waiting for someone, probably Finn, while Willow sat next to her, her leg jumping up and down.  She looked better, at least from his vantage point of the balcony and Will blew out a breath.  _She’s okay, Will.  No need to get all protective.  
_  
She glanced up when her name was called, breaking out into a forced smile when Riley walked up.  He watched the two of them, watched Willow leave them alone, saw her smile fade a bit, him sink to his haunches in front of her, then a shake of his head and suddenly he was up on his feet looming over her, his voice loud in the courtyard, his hands on her upper arms.  
  
  
****************************************************************  
                      
  
The two of them weren’t talking about anything in particular, sort of just marking time, waiting for Riley to get to the courtyard from his last class.  Willow’s leg was shaking up and down and every once in a while, Buffy would reach out and still her movements.  “Relax, Wills, would ya?  You’re making me nervous.  And nervous Buffy is puky Buffy.  So stop, okay?”  
  
“Yeah.  Sorry.  I’m just anxious.”  The red-head smiled apologetically at the blond, but further comment was halted when Riley’s voice called out a greeting.  
  
“Here we go.”  Buffy forced a bright smile to her face, motioning Riley over.  “Hey.”  
  
“Hey Buffy.  Willow.  What’s going on?”  He shifted his glance between the two girls, smiling widely, “How’s my two favorite girls?”  
  
“I’m good.  Gotta run.  See ya.”  And Willow was up and gone before either of them could voice a protest.  _So much for support, Wills, thanks a freaking lot._  
  
“So what’s up?”  He knew something was going on, because Buffy had been really cranky the last couple of days and really quiet.  But he wasn’t prepared at all for what she said.  
  
“Riley?  I’m pregnant.”  _No.  Damn.  Shit.  Why can’t I keep my mouth shut until my brain is ready?  
_  
“What?”  All six foot one and half of him was floored.  Involuntarily he sank to his knees in front of her, disbelief on his face.  “What?”  
  
“I’m pregnant.”  
  
“What?  How?  I thought we were. . . we used condoms.”  He shook his head in disbelief.  “No.  Can’t be true.  We used condoms.  It’s not possible.”  
  
“They aren’t one hundred percent effective you know.  It is still possible.”  Buffy hadn’t meant for the sarcasm to creep into her tones.    
  
“Not a hundred percent.  That’s not very comforting you know.”  Realization set in.  “No.  This isn’t –  Buffy you can’t do this to me.  I just got my appointment letter from West Point.  You know they don’t allow this.  How could you do this to me?”  
  
“Do this to you?  What about me?”  Buffy’s anger was rising to match his.  
  
“It’s West Point, Buffy, I’m not going to throw it away because you got jammed up.”  
  
“Jammed up?  Is that what you – ?!”  Buffy was soo mad she was almost spitting.  
  
Riley got to his feet, anger and some other unknown emotion filling him from head to toe.  Grabbing her arms he hauled her up, holding her off the ground, his hands tight around her upper arms, tension causing his muscles to tense up and begin to shake.  “How could you?  This is your fault you got pregnant.  Buffy, I’m not losing West Point over this.”  
  
Too late they realized he’d been shouting, all eyes in the courtyard riveted on them.  Riley had her in his hands, shaking her and tears sprang to Buffy’s eyes.  
  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
Will had taken the steps down at a jump, afraid the big senior was going to strike the tiny girl and his voice, the voice of authority, broke them apart.  
  
“Remove your hands, Mr. Finn.  Now.”  
  
Very slowly Riley put Buffy back on her feet, letting her go and Will watched as she crumpled, hunching over, harsh yet silent sobs wracking her tiny frame.  
  
“Detention, Finn.  Now.  Go sit in Mr. Giles’ office until I get there.”  
  
William was livid.  There was nothing worse than a man who hit a woman or threatened to.  And to his eyes and probably everyone else’s that was what Riley Finn had been about to do.  
  
He watched the boy go, not daring to look down at Buffy until he got his temper under control.  It took a considerable effort.  
  
Squatting down in front of her, William rested a hand on her back.  “Are you okay?”  
  
“No.”  She looked at him, tears sliding down her cheeks, face blotchy with hectic color, eyes red-rimmed and heartbroken and Will’s own heart contracted in response.  
  
“It’s all right, sweetheart.  I’m gonna get Willow to take you home, okay?”  
  
 She nodded her head and Will motioned Willow over.  
  
“Take her home, Miss Rosenberg.  Stay with her.”  Thinking a bit, he said, “I’ll excuse you both from classes.”  
  
“Thanks, Mr. Stevenson.”  Willow sat down beside her best friend, her head bent low next to Buffy’s, her arm slung across her back.  “C’mon, Buff, let’s get you home.”  
  
Will stood there watching the two girls leave, realizing that what he was feeling wasn’t exactly normal between a teacher and student.  And also realizing that Riley Finn needed to steer clear of him for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If the subject matter, a teacher/student relationship bothers anyone, I suggest you stop reading now, because this is what this story is about. The quote is from For Keeps, one of those Molly Ringwald movies that we all hated to love in the 1980's (hey, even Molly was embarrassed after a while), well those of us who were old enough to watch them.


	4. Mistakes are often the portals of discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this quote is from James Joyce. . . one of my favorite authors.

  
  
  
_**Fourth.  Mistakes are often the portals of discovery.  
  
When you make a mistake, don't look back at it long.  
Take the reason of the thing into your mind and then look forward.  
Mistakes are lessons of wisdom.  
The past cannot be changed.  
The future is yet in your power.  
    Hugh White, US politician (1773 - 1840) **_  
  
  
  
Riley Finn knew he was in deep shit.  In the last hour his entire world had unraveled.  Yesterday, his appointment letter from West Point had arrived, his future was all planned out and waiting for him.  
  
Now?  Not so sure.  His appointment letter was tucked away in his backpack and he had no idea what was going to happen to him.  He couldn’t imagine something worse could happen.  
  
Staring at the walls of the Assistant Principal’s office, a place he’d only ever been to before to get an award or good news of some kind, Riley felt the first stirrings of fear.  This was going to screw up his appointment.  He just knew it.  
  
A door opened down the hallway and heavy steps came closer, way too quickly for his peace of mind.  He looked up at Mr. Stevenson’s approach, then dropped his gaze when he caught the fury in his eyes.  
 _  
Oh shit.  I’m done for now._  
  
Mr. Stevenson stalked past him without acknowledging his presence, without so much as a glance down.  As he walked by, Riley could see the muscle in his cheek twitch, signaling his extreme agitation.  
 _  
Oh shit._  
  
With a brief knock on the AP’s door, Stevenson walked right in.  Riley closed his eyes, willing away tears of self disgrace and fear.  _I’m still going.  I’m still going.  It’s West Point, they can’t take that away from me._  
  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
  
They’d barely made it out of the courtyard when the shaking started.  Buffy’s teeth started chattering before they hit the end of the first block and by the time they’d crossed the street, the tears started flowing.  
  
Halfway to her house, just two blocks away, Buffy hunched over and vomited on her shoes.  
  
Willow didn’t know what to do.  _Oh god.  Oh shit.  Oh, Buffy._   “You okay?  You’re okay, right?  You can’t stop now.  C’mon, Buffy.”  
  
She knew she was completely incoherent and some part of her usually logical brain was horrified by the idiot part that was controlling her mouth, yet Willow couldn’t stop.  
  
Tugging her best friend’s arm, Willow pulled Buffy forward a couple of steps.  “That’s good.  C’mon, Buffy, take a couple more.”  She did it again, nearly crowing in relief when the action seemed to jump start Buffy into moving again.  
  
Except it didn’t last long.  Only to the end of the second block and barely across the street.  
  
“C’mon, Buff, I can see your house from here.  We’re almost there.  C’mon.”  In her nervousness she found herself almost baby-talking in a sing song voice.  “One foot.  That’s a girl!  One more.  One foot in front of the other.  Yeah! Buffy.”  
  
Her glee was short-lived when Buffy hunched over for the second time and threw up all over the sidewalk.  
  
Buffy’s hands were icy cold and Willow had no idea what to do when suddenly from three sides she had different people vying for her attention.  Buffy was still hunched over, only now it was just dry heaves, nothing substantial left in her stomach.  Xander’s voice was calling out to her from down the block, Mrs. Wilson was coming down her walkway and Mr. Stevenson was getting out of his car.  
  
 _Huh?_  
  
Mr. Stevenson was the first to reach them, his voice kind and sympathetic.  “Had a feeling this was going to happen.”  He placed a warm hand on Buffy’s back, leaning over to talk to her.  “Buffy?  Can you stand up?”  When she didn’t respond or react, he said a bit more forcefully, “Miss Summers, can you hear me?”  
  
No response.  
  
Willow was chattering away trying to get Buffy to answer when Buffy’s legs started to give out.  Mr. Stevenson had her up in his arms as Mrs. Wilson placed a hand on her brow. “She’s in shock.”  
  
Mrs. Wilson was appalled.  “Oh my.  What happened?”  
  
Willow started babbling again, but Mr. Stevenson’s low voice broke through her words, “Scare at school.”  
  
Quickly taking charge of the situation, Will shifted Buffy in his arms, looking at the little red-head.  ‘Willow, get my car door.  Where does she live?”  
  
“Half a block away, just across the street.”  Whirling around, opening his car door and motioning with her hand to where the house was, Willow looked to him for guidance.  Xander jogged up, his question then catching everyone’s attention.  Without turning around, Will called out, “Harris?  That you?  Grab my keys.”  
  
“Willow?  What’s going on?”  
  
Changing his mind about getting her back into the car and driving her home, Will figured it was just as easy to walk.  And it was, because Buffy was limp in his arms, despite her  inner chill.  His attention split between the two teens trailing him and the one cradled in his arms, Will barked out orders.  “Which house?  Someone get the door.”  And then,  “Willow?  Call her mother.”  
  
Once inside the house, Will looked around, not really noticing the nice comfortable feel of the house, the welcoming aroma of vanilla pervading the air.  “Get her shoes off.”  
  
Gingerly, Willow sat down on the couch next to her, slipping her shoes off and then quickly running into the kitchen to wash her hands.  ‘Willow?  I need a blanket.”  
  
 Looking around, Will spied a folded up blanket on the chair next to the fire place and grabbing it he put it around her.  Willow wandered back inside, sitting down again.  She started to get up, but Will said, “No, stay put.  She needs to stay warm.  Cuddle up with her.”  
  
Xander was hovering around, after closing the front door and Will caught his eye, “Harris, get her something warm and sugary to drink.”  
  
“Warm and sugary?  What, Mr. Stevenson, what should I?  Hey, would hot chocolate work?”  Not waiting for his teacher’s answer, Xander made a beeline for the kitchen, to the sound of William’s voice saying, “Yeah, that’s perfect, even better if you have mini-marshmallows.”  
  
“Willow?  Did you get her mother?”  From her spot on the couch behind Buffy, the red-head shook her head yes, and Will asked, “How long before she gets here?”  
  
“She works right here in Sunnydale at the art gallery downtown.  She should be home in about five minutes.”  
  
“Okay, that’s good.”  Gazing down at the still dazed blonde, Will’s heart contracted just a little bit.  “Buffy?  You feeling any better?”  
  
Sleepy dazed vivid green eyes lazily opened to focus on him crouched down next to her.  She had no idea how she got into her living with him here, but she didn’t even care.  “Will?”  
  
He smiled at her, his deep blue eyes full of concern.  “Shhh.  Your mom will be home soon.  You’re going to be okay.”  His eyes focused on the red-head who was watching them closely, “Willow? Have her mother call Mr. Giles’ office.  I’ll be there.”  
  
Willow sat up, disentangling herself from Buffy, who rolled to her back and closed her eyes again.  She didn’t want Mr. Stevenson to know how badly she wanted him to stay.  Heavy tears slid from her eyes and Buffy curled underneath the blanket.  
  
 “Mr. Stevenson, where are you going?”  Willow’s voice was quiet, her uncertainty easy to detect.  
  
William glanced down at the blond girl, caught her peeking up at him and his grim smile warmed her chilled body.   Turning his attention to the other teen on the couch, he said, “To deal with Finn.”  
  
And before either one of them could ask what that meant, he was gone.  
  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
  
There was no sound from behind the door.  No raised voices.  Nothing.  Riley took that as a fairly good sign.  His attention was split between the door and the clock over the secretary’s desk.  As he watched the second hand tick a complete revolution, the phone rang.  He paid that no attention until he heard a “Yes, he is.  Hold on one minute.”  
  
Then, “Mr. Giles?  I have Joyce Summers on the phone.  Yes, sir.  Hang up and I’ll put her through.”  
  
A brief pause.  “Mrs. Summers?  Mr. Giles will speak with you.”  Another pause.  “Yes, he is, m’am.  You’re welcome.  Hold on.”  
  
Riley dropped his gaze from the secretary when she pointedly looked back at him.  It had to be all over school by now.  What had happened in the courtyard had to have been embellished and expanded and just.  _Shit.  Just shit._  
  
Another fifteen minutes ticked slowly by.  
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
  
Joyce flew in the doorway, thoughts scrambled in her head.  Willow’s message had been garbled, nothing really making sense until she heard, “Buffy’s in shock”.  She’d barely grabbed her purse before she was out the doors of the gallery heading at a run for her car.  
  
Buffy and Willow were curled up together on the couch, the red-head holding a mug of something for Buffy to sip from.  “Girls?”  
  
One look at her mother and Buffy collapsed into great gulping sobs.  “Mommy?”  
  
“Oh, honey.  What happened?”  Maternal instincts kicked in and Joyce sat down on the other side of her daughter, gathering her in a comforting embrace.  Unfortunately she still had no answers.  
  
Turning her attention to the other girl, Joyce asked her.  “Willow, can you tell me what happened?”  
  
Hesitantly at first, Willow relayed the events of the day.  She covered everything from Mr. Stevenson’s first rescue to the disaster of what happened in the courtyard.  Xander stood in the doorway listening to everything, his face blanching at the news of Buffy’s pregnancy.  By the time Willow was finished, Joyce Summers was in a towering fury.  And so was Xander Harris.  
  
“Where is Mr. Stevenson now?”  Joyce was trying to hold it together for Buffy, though it was a near thing.  
  
“He didn’t say where he was going to be, only that he was going to deal with Riley.”  Willow tried to remember, but it was Xander who said, “He wanted you to call Mr. Giles’ office.  He’s probably there.”  
  
Joyce nodded once, then asked Xander to get the phone for her because she didn’t want to disturb Buffy, who had fallen into a light sleep.  
  
The first phone call Joyce made wasn’t to the school, it was to the doctor’s.  They would see Buffy in two hours, in the meantime, she could have anything sweet and should be kept warm.  
  
Getting the okay from the obstetrician had calmed Joyce somewhat, enough so she could call Giles’ office.  The phone was answered on the second ring.  
  
“Good afternoon.  Mr.  Giles, please.”  
  
“Joyce Summers.”  
  
“Yes.  I’ll hold.”  Joyce smiled at the two awake teenagers, brushing her hand lightly over Buffy’s hair, while she waited patiently to be connected.  
  
“Thank you.  Oh.  One question.  Is Mr. Stevenson with him?”  
  
“He is?  Yes, thank you.”  
  
  
*********************************************************  
  
“Rupert Giles.”  
  
“Would you mind terribly if I put you on speaker phone?  I’d rather have Mr. Stevenson go over this with both of us.  Yes.  He was an eyewitness.”  
  
“Very well.  Hold on.”  
  
Looking down at the complicated contraption on his desk, Rupert was at a loss until Stevenson leaned over and took the receiver from him, hit the hold button, then hands free button and suddenly Joyce Summers’ voice filled the room.  It was obvious she wasn’t speaking to either one of the men present.  “It’s okay, sweetheart. Everything’s going to be okay.”  
  
“Mrs. Summers?”  Rupert’s voice broke through.  
  
“Yes.  I’m still here.”  
  
“Very good.  Mr. Stevenson is here with me now.”  
  
Will spoke, identifying himself.  “Mrs. Summers. How is Buffy?”  
  
“My daughter is still very shaken.  Hasn’t said much of anything.  Willow’s actually told me what happened.”  
  
“I’m sorry.”    
  
Joyce’s composure broke a little on her next words. “I’d like to thank you, Mr. Stevenson for what you did for my daughter today.  I can’t thank you enough.”  
  
“You’re very welcome.  I have to tell you that your daughter is a very smart and talented girl.  I’m very proud to have her in my class.”  Will wanted to say more, but now wasn’t the time.  
  
“Thank you.  Can you please tell me what happened?”  Will gave a very dispassionate accounting, controlling his temper, just barely.  Joyce could hear the anger in his tone and Giles could see it in his eyes.  
  
 _Best do as I planned then.  Remove the boy from his classes with Ms. Summers and get him out of Will’s._    He had both Finn’s and Summers’ files on his desk, and Will had informed him of the girl’s condition, which further complicated things.  Finn was possibly in some very deep trouble.  
  
His attention re-focused on something Will had said and he stopped his internal musings to listen to the conversation.  
  
“Well, you could, Mrs. Summers, however, for now perhaps just an order of protection would be best.”  
  
Rupert broke in, adding, “I’ve already taken steps to ensure they won’t be in a classroom together.”  
  
“Thank you, Mr. Giles.  That was one of my concerns.  I know they have more than one class together.”  
  
“I’m also going to suspend Finn for three days. Incidents like this are not tolerated, Mrs. Summers.”  
  
Joyce let out a deep breath.  ‘Thank you both.  I appreciate everything you’ve done for us today.  I know Buffy feels the same.”  
  
She was about to hang up when Will’s voice stopped her.  “Mrs. Summers?”  Would you please let me know how she is later?”  
  
“Sure thing.  Thanks again.”  
  
“No problem.”  
  
The call was disconnected and Giles studied the files in front of him, completely missing the look on the other ex-patriot Englishman’s features.  
  
“Will?  I’ve no idea how to do this.  It would be simple to take him out of your English class and put him in Logan’s class.  Although the rest of it is just. . . I’m going to have to re-do his entire schedule.  They have four classes together.”  
  
Giles took off his glasses, laying them down on his paperwork.  “And now I have to suspend the boy also.”  
  
“Well, Rupes, it gives you three days to work on his schedule, now doesn’t it?”  
  
“Funny, Will.  Your mother should’ve put you out with the wash water when you were born.”  
  
“Gee, thanks ever so.”  Growing sober, he said, “It should go on his permanent record.”  
  
“I know.  But it won’t.  His West Point appointment is already in jeopardy.”  Giles looked at his sister’s son and sighed, “Do you think the Summers woman will press charges?”  
  
“No.  I dunno.  She might.  Sounded angry enough.”  
  
“That she did.  All right.  Let’s get this over with.”  
  
Rupert Giles got up from his desk and walked to his door.  
  
“Riley Finn, would you come in please?”


	5. Dangerous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title and quote are from a James Marsters song. I just tweaked the words a wee bit.

_**Fifth.  Dangerous  
  
I don't think you know my name  
And I think you'd leave me standin’ in the rain   
You're a pretty little girl got a thing for me  
But you'd cut me open and let me bleed  
  
But I'll be looking at you with your long blond hair   
Pretty little feet, sparkling everywhere  
You look so good when you come my way  
But I have to look down when you talk to me  
  
'Cause you’re dangerous,   
You’re Dangerous  
You’re Dangerous  
And you don't even know it **_  
  
  
Her mom had let her skip two full days of school, but come Monday morning, she was adamant.  Buffy was going back to school, like it or not.  
  
The only high spot of the long weekend had been the strange flowers that had been delivered to her late Saturday afternoon.  Well, the flowers weren’t strange, they were actually really pretty, beautiful even.  The delivery was strange.  No one had ever sent her flowers before and the note was only signed “me”.  
  
Buffy had no idea who’d sent them.  At first she was afraid they were from Riley, then she dismissed that idea.  _Flowers weren’t his style at all.  Nope.  Not that he had a style._  
  
She knew who she wanted them to be from, but she didn’t dare hope.  _He wouldn’t.  He just thought of her as a kid.  A troublesome kid.  Couldn’t possibly have been him._  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
He didn’t know she was back in school until she walked into his classroom just before the start of sixth period.  She was by herself, books clutched tight to her chest and the tension in her eyes wasn’t hard to see.  
  
No one was settling down and he caught some of the gossip that was being not so carefully whispered and some of the nastier things got his back up.  
  
“All right, everyone sit down.”  The bell rang and still there were pockets of students milling around just talking.  One thing he asked of all his classes was immediate obedience.  He didn’t much care for excessive rules, however when he spoke he expected compliance.  
  
His aggravated roar filled the classroom, startling his senior honors class.  “I said, sit the bloody hell down.  Now!”  
  
People scrambled, tripping over themselves to find their seats.  
  
Thirty-four pairs of eyes looked at him as he paced the front of his room.  His anger was clear because his accent started slipping.  
  
“Right, then.  This is my bloody classroom an’ when I tell you to sit an’ be quiet, you lot damn well better.”  
  
He took a deep breath, not daring to look at Buffy, the only one of his students not starting at him, gaped mouth.  “I will na’ tolerate any nasty shite in his room.  You’re all near adults, behave like it.”  
  
He turned a gimlet eye on Harmony Kendall, one of the worst offenders, pointing her out.  “Don’ speak ill of others.  This is not the place f’r it.  If I hear such stuff in this room, it’s detention.  An’ I hear it twice an’ you’ll get a failin’ grade.”  
  
Taking a deep calming breath, he launched right into the discussion of William Blake’s poetry that he had planned for the day.    
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
  
She was beyond humiliated.  The stares and the whispers and the looks of pity were more than she could handle.  Buffy felt, for not the first time that day, tears begin to form in her eyes.  _This is so damn hard and so not fair.  I’m not the first girl to ever get pregnant in high school.  Why the hell does everyone have to look at me like I’m some sort of freak?_  
  
The only high points of the day had been finding Xander and Willow waiting outside every class they didn’t share, Xander especially protective of her; and the reaction all the nasty remarks had gotten from Mr. Stevenson.  In the four years of high school, she’d never seen him yell like that.  It had been downright scary.    
  
He had paced the front of his classroom, every eye on him, wary of what he would do next.  Mr. Stevenson wasn’t normally an unfair grader, always willing to give someone a second chance if they missed a deadline or needed help or well, anything.  Yet this afternoon, he’d been really angry.  
  
Xander told her this morning that Riley had been suspended for three days and he wouldn’t be back in school before Wednesday, which was good.  They hadn’t talked or anything since the few moments in the courtyard and Buffy was okay with that.  She didn’t really want to see or talk to him.  In fact the only reason she hadn’t thrown the flowers out was because she was positive they weren’t from Riley.  
  
Listening to Mr. Stevenson’s voice, Buffy tuned out what was going on around her, just focusing on the sounds, letting her mind wander.  This was harder than she thought it was, going through the motions, pretending to be okay with everything.  No one except Willow and Xander was willing to talk to her, not that she really minded about that, but it was the looks from kids she didn’t really know that were bothering her.  Surprisingly, while Harmony and a couple of the other girls were being particularly nasty, Cordelia hadn’t been.  She hadn’t gone out of her way to talk to her, though she hadn’t made any nasty comments or given her funny looks or anything.  Instead, the head cheerleader had been very quiet, only smiling at Buffy giving her silent support.    
  
Before she knew it, her eyes had drifted closed, her ears tuned only to the sounds of an English accent echoing through her.  
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
Will stole a glance down as he paced through the room, his eyes focusing on Buffy Summers. Asleep again.  Fighting a smile, he carried on with the lecture, ignoring his desire to run his hand over her hair and let her sleep against his chest.  _Focus, Will._  
  
Once again, he let her sleep, knowing full well he’d never allow anyone else to get away with that in his classroom.  Special circumstances deserved concessions, and Buffy certainly had special needs, at least at the moment.  The fact that he wanted to scoop her up and cuddle next to her had no bearing on that.  Mentally, Will scoffed at himself.  He knew damned well why he was cutting her loads of slack, why he’d completely lost his temper at the beginning of the class.  He wasn’t going to lie to himself.   _Best acknowledge the attraction and fight it that way.  No sense hiding and pretending it’s not there.  
_  
Because the attraction was there.    
  
Before he knew it, the bell rang for the end of class and he watched as they scrambled from the room, none of them daring to whisper as they filed past him.  Buffy was still at her desk, her chin resting on her hand, elbow on the desk.   Crouching down to face her, Will brushed the back of his hand down her cheek, his eyes traveling over her features.  Slowly drawing his hand away, he berated himself.  _This is not how you fight this, mate.  No touching.  Remember that, you wanker.  
_  
Yet the little voice in his head, the one that had been singing in his ear for days now, was warbling a different tune.   _Yeah, but touching is what you want to do.  Want to take this little girl and hold her tight._ Once again his hand was touching her, his fingers tangling in her gold hair, cupping her shoulder.  To his own ears his voice sounded husky and he couldn’t for the life of him stop it.  “Buffy, c’mon, it’s time to wake up.”  
  
“Mmmmm.”  Was the only answer he got, her mouth opening a tiny bit, soft breaths wafting across the distance separating their faces.  
  
“Buffy.  Class is over.  You need to wake up.”  He watched her slowly swim toward wakefulness, fighting every step of the way.  
  
“Don’t wanna.  Hate waking up.”  Her voice was little girl soft, petulance lacing the words, everything about her sending shockwaves through his system.    
  
“C’mon, sweetheart.  You need to wake up.” _Oh great, you fucking git.  Call the girl sweetheart.  Not the brightest thing you’ve ever done._  
  
With that she opened her beautiful sleepy green eyes and he forgot what he was thinking.  _Oh god.  Would you look at that.  She’s bloody gorgeous._  
  
His hand tightened on her shoulder and Buffy reached out to brush some chalk dust off his dark blue shirt.  Without thinking she leaned toward him, dropping her head down on his shoulder.  Her muffled voice sounded softly in the air, not disturbing the little spell they found themselves a part of, “Hey.  Can I just stay here for a minute?”  
  
He couldn’t speak.  Couldn’t find his voice.  His hand automatically slid along her back, holding her close and they stayed like that for a few minutes.    
  
It was Buffy who finally moved, shifting away from him, completely embarrassed.  “I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have. . .”  
  
A warm finger brushed across her lips, silencing her.  “It’s okay.  Just,”  Clearing his throat, he said, “Let’s try and not let this happen again, okay?”  
  
“Kay.”  Gathering her books, she refused to look at him, but she whispered softy, “I. . . thanks for what you’ve been doing for me.  You know, the other day and, this.  Thanks.”  
  
She fled from the room before he could form words that wouldn’t take them deeper into trouble.


	6. Through a mirror clear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is from Alfred Lord Tennyson’s The Lady of Shalott.

**_Sixth.  Through a mirror clear  
  
Let us be grateful to the mirror for revealing to us our appearance only.   
    Samuel Butler, Erewhon  
  
A pure hand needs no glove to cover it.   
    Nathaniel Hawthorne, The Scarlet Letter_**  
  
  
  
  
The knot in her stomach wouldn’t ease, no amount of deep breathing or talking to herself was making it disappear.  She’d been up half the night, stress and worry keeping her from sleep, increasing her uneasiness.  
  
Once more she found herself staring at the front doors of Sunnydale High School,  wishing she could skip most of the day, going only to Stevenson’s English class.  But Xander was standing behind her, a solid presence, his broad shoulders giving her some support.  She’d been worried about what he would think of her and he’d totally surprised her by practically becoming her bodyguard.  Monday he and Willow had walked her to her classes.  Tuesday he’d walked her home and this morning he’d shown up at her house before school.  
  
“C’mon, Buffster.  Time to face the music.”  His voice was cheerfully grim and she wondered how come he was being supporto-guy.    
  
The words slipped out before she could stop them.  “Xan?  How come you’re being okay with this?”  
  
He sighed, looked down at his feet, then focused at some point over her head.  Without looking at her all, he said, “My parents had to get married when my mom was sixteen.”  
  
 _Oh shit._   She hadn’t known that, but it explained a lot about Xander.  Reaching out a hand to touch his arm, Buffy said simply, “Thanks, Xander.  It means a lot to me.”  
  
He blushed, shaking his head a bit, hiding how much her thanks meant.  “Shouldn’t have to go through this alone.  Riley’s an asshole.”  
  
He stepped away from her then, breaking into a sad smile, “But I already knew that way before this.  C’mon, let’s go face the hordes.”  
  
Part of her wanted to run and hide, even though Buffy knew she couldn’t.  _Better just do this._   “Thanks, Xander.  Really.”  
  
Together they walked into the doors, like two warriors watching each other’s backs, girding for another tough day in hell.  
  
  
**************************************************************  
  
  
He hated these meetings, though he’d rarely had to conduct them with more than the student’s parents.  Unfortunately, in this case, there were other factors involved.  
  
His office was overcrowded at the moment.  It wasn’t nearly big enough for all those present, although Rupert Giles was more than happy letting a fair number of the occupants stand.  The Finns were all here; Mrs. Finn was sitting in one of the chairs, her husband behind her, with Riley at her right hand, and both men were standing at attention.  
  
Occupying the other chair was Colonel Graham MacArthur, Dean of Students at West Point and next to him, also standing at attention was his adjunct, Major West.  
  
None of the people facing him were anywhere near a good mood.  Finn’s parents were none too pleased, while MacArthur’s face was impassive.  
  
Glancing down at the assorted paperwork on his desk, Giles let none of his emotions show.  His distaste for the entire process was hard to conceal from his voice, however.  
  
In front of him, hidden beneath some other papers, was an affidavit from Buffy Summers, outlining the events of last week.  It had been part of the order of protection the girl currently had on file against the teen in front of him and he’d need it to do what he was about to.  
  
Clearing his throat, Giles finally spoke.  “I am not going to repeat the reasons why we area all assembled this morning.  I’m going to assume everyone is apprised of the situation.”  He glanced up, taking in everyone’s agreement.  
  
“Mr. Finn.”  Giles looked steadily at the young man before him.  “It has been decided, given the circumstances and your outburst and subsequent behavior last week that you will be removed from all your classes and placed in others.”  
  
His parents began to protest, but Giles held up his hand indicating he was not finished.  “The administration feels that in light of that incident and the order of protection that has been filed against you by Miss Summers, this is a necessary step.”  
  
“This kind of incident will not be tolerated on school grounds.  You are not permitted to have any contact whatsoever with Miss Summers.  Any violation will result in further suspension and possible criminal charges.”   Letting that sink in, Giles waited a moment.  
  
“Is this understood, Mr.  Finn?”  
  
Without much emotion, Riley stared straight ahead, then spoke clearly, “Yes, sir.”  
  
Giles waited another moment, then said, “Against my better judgment and at the request of Army officials, this incident is not going on your permanent record.  However,” Giles stared into Riley’s face, his eyes glittering oddly, “Should you be seen near Miss Summers or attempting to speak with her, it will become part of your record.  And I personally will see to it that you be prosecuted.”  
  
Riley’s mother started to speak, but her husband’s firm hand on her shoulder forestalled any further comment.  
  
Handing Riley his new schedule and the old one, Giles instructed him to get the old one initialed by all his teachers before reporting to his new classes.  
  
Unceremoniously ushering the crowd out the door, Giles fought the grimace of distaste.  
  
 _Bloody bastard, never once inquired how the girl was._  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
Retired Brigadier General Kevin Finn stalked to the main doors of the school, jaw clenched and hands firmly at his side, his wife trailing behind him.  He’d called in a lot of favors for his son, and he was less than pleased about having to do so and the reasons behind that.  
  
Without a word to his wife, Finn nodded to the Major, holding back Colonel MacArthur.  “Look, Graham, I appreciate what you did for my boy.  I’ll see about getting a release from the Summers girl.  Shouldn’t be too hard.”  
  
“Sir.  I did what I could.  It was still the Commandant’s decision.  He would like your assurance that nothing else will go wrong.”  
  
“You have my word, Colonel.  Riley will do as he’s told.”  Loosening up a little bit, Finn spoke again, “Give my regards to your father.”  
  
“Will do, sir.”  Saluting his superior, Colonel Graham MacArthur pivoted on a heel and was gone in the next moment.  
  
Sharing a long look with his wife, Finn said, “Let's go, Maggie.  We have some things to discuss.”  
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
  
Despite having gone through this three times already today, Buffy still wasn’t prepared for the sight of Riley standing at the head of the classroom waiting for Mr. Stevenson to arrive.    
  
The first time, in second period math, Buffy had nearly run from the class room, afraid he was going to talk to her, but he’d just gotten the signature and left without even looking at her.  
  
 _Hey, baby. . . how’s you right now?  Sorry for the crazy heartbeat, but mommy’s way confused.  Coz you know I thought I loved him but now so not so sure about that.  I mean he hasn’t even tried to talk to me – what’s up with that?  Guess he doesn’t love me. . or us.  Sorry, baby.  Mommy’s so sorry._  
  
Buffy was sitting at her desk, her chin resting on both hands, staring at nothing, purposely avoiding Riley’s tense form waiting by Will’s – Mr. Stevenson’s desk.  
  
The bell rang and the noise slowly subsided, except for the annoying sound of Harmony’s voice, “And you know, how slutty is that?  Sleeping with someone and not using protection?  It’s like saying, _hello, I want to get pregnant_.  And really what did she expect?  That he was going to say _oh, I love you, let’s get married_.  So not!”  
  
“Miss Kendall?”  
  
Harmony froze, the catty smirk that had been directed at Buffy quickly fading and she hesitated, afraid to turn around and face Mr. Stevenson.  
  
Sneaking a glance at his face, Buffy shivered.  His eyes were the lightest shade of blue she’d ever seen, icy hot and laser bright.  There was a muscle ticking in his cheek, his jaw clenching and unclenching, his fists at his side.  
  
When Harmony hesitated before turning around, Stevenson repeated himself.  “Miss Kendall.”  
  
 _Oh wow.  I’m scared of him and he’s not even pissed off at me. **Wow**. _  
  
Riley, who was less than two feet away from the irate Englishman, took one look at him and stepped away.  
  
Harmony turned around and foolishly made an attempt to placate him.  “Hey, Mr. Stevenson.  You called?”  
  
And then she made the colossal mistake of giggling.  Whether it was nerves or not, it didn’t matter, because judging by the look on his face, Mr. Stevenson was about to unleash an apocalypse on the poor ditzy blond.  
  
“What did I say not two days ago to this class?”  He waited a beat and when Harmony either couldn’t or wouldn’t answer him, he called out, “Jonathan?  What did I say?”  
  
Clearly flustered, the super-geek blurted out word for word what Stevenson had said.  
  
“Thank you, Mr. Levinson.”  Looking back at Harmony, Stevenson ground out, “Five days, Miss Kendall.  After school.  Here.  Starting today.  The next time will cost you this quarter’s grade.  After that it will be the semester.”  
  
Passing his eyes over every student looking at him, Will gritted his teeth.  Part of him realized he was being irrational and quite possibly over-reacting, however, Will nearly didn’t care.  The poor girl needed someone to support her, especially since it was fairly obvious her boyfriend wasn’t doing it.  He had no idea what kind of support she was getting at home and he made a mental note to find out.  
  
Reining in his considerable temper, Will repeated his own personal mantra.  “Gossip is for the small minded and petty.  I’ve no tolerance for it and will not allow it in this room.  Anymore outbursts from anyone, and the transgressors will find themselves joining Miss Kendall.  
  
Holding out his hand silently to Riley for his paperwork, Will’s eyes swept over the class.  “Am I understood?”  
  
At the murmurs of yes, he bent down to initial Riley’s paper, Stevenson said to the teen in such a softly cold voice that the hair on Buffy’s neck stood up, “Finn.  That goes for you as well.  One word and I’ll have you suspended again.”  
  
Riley stammered out a muffled, “Yes ,sir,” and fled the classroom.  
  
For some odd reason, Buffy didn’t fall asleep in his class that day.


	7. Some comfort here.

**_Seventh.  Some comfort here.  
  
Once discover comfort, and there is no turning back  
    Mason Cooley, City Aphorisms, Seventh Selection  
  
Thou art all the comfort  
The gods will diet me with.   
    Cymbeline. Act iii. Sc. 4._**  
  
                              
  
Will berated himself all the way home – _great way to show disinterest, mate_ – and during his lonely excuse for dinner – _gotta stop favoring the chit, Will, she’s your student_ – while walking the dogs – _just let it go, find someone else, like Anya or Jenny or **any one** other than a seventeen year old girl_ – and all through his session on the open microphone.  All to no avail.  
  
He couldn’t get her out of his head.  
  
So it was really no surprise when he ran into her on his way home from the Espresso Pump just outside Restfield cemetery.  
  
He stopped dead in his tracks watching her.  She was sitting on a grave, facing the headstone, her hands gesturing like she was carrying on a conversation.  Stepping closer he could hear her talking.  
  
“Just . . . I wonder why he won’t . . . not that I want him too.  So with the not wanting to talk to Riley right now.  But if he really loved me like he said he did, wouldn’t he at least try?  Even knowing he shouldn’t?  So that means he doesn’t really love me then.”    
  
Taking in a deep breath, Buffy rambled on, “Which is good, ‘coz not sure I love him either.  Really not sure I love him at all.”  
  
Abandoning that train of though, he watched her shift a bit, her voice going on, “And you should have seen Harmony today, so with the not so nice talking about me and Will – I told you about him right, Gram?  My oh so lickable English teacher?  He got so. . .”  
  
The sound of her voice receded, his mind focusing on one thing.  _Lickable?  She thinks I’m lickable.  Bloody hell.  Not good, William.  Turn round now.  Go home.  The other way.  Now._  
  
His feet decided otherwise, drawing him closer to where she was sitting and before he could think better of it, he heard the sound of his voice speaking her name.  “Buffy?”  
  
Spinning around, Buffy fell over, landing on her side, clumsy from the speed of her own movement.  
  
Looking up at him from her new position, Buffy smiled sheepishly, saying, “Hi, Mr. S.  Whatsup?”  
  
“Nothing.  What are you doing out here at one in the morning?”  He looked down at her, a slight smile on his face.  
  
“Um.  Having conversations with dead people?”    
  
 _Oh she was just too bloody cute._ Her grin was just adorable and Will was forced to broaden his own smile back at her.  His chuckle sounded in the air around them and he blurted out what he was thinking, “That’s just bloody cheeky of you.”  
  
Wrinkling up her nose at him, she asked, “Does that mean I’m funny or chubby?”  
  
Giving her response the laughter it deserved, Will said, “Sassy.  Snarky.  Take your pick, Pet.”  
  
“I like sassy.”  She smiled up at him, not so innocently flirting with him.  Changing the subject she asked, “Coming home from poetry night?”  
  
“Yeah.”  He looked around, glancing down at the headstone asked his own question, “Who’s this you’re talking to, then?”  
  
“Oh!  My grandmother.  She died two years ago.”  Gesturing toward the stone slab, Buffy said, “Her name was Anne.  She was the best.”    
  
“My mum’s name is Anne,” was out of his mouth before he could stop himself.   _Oh, you idiot wanker, you’re not supposed to be talking to the girl like she’s a bloody date._  
  
Before he could backpedal and get himself out of the corner he was rapidly painting himself into, Buffy responded, “I’m named for her.  Well, Anne is my middle name.  So it like, counts, you know?”  Tilting her head at him, Buffy asked, “So what’s your middle name?”  
  
“Giles.”  He found himself leaning against the wall of a small mausoleum, his hands in his pockets, looking down at the girl at his feet.  _Stop looking at her like that, you bloody fool.  
_  
“Like Mr. Giles?”  A light dawned on her and she made the connection, “Are you related to our Mr. Giles?”    
  
“Yeah.  He’s m’uncle.  My mother’s brother in fact.”  He looked away, shifting his stance and Buffy clearly got the impression that he wasn’t at all happy about her knowing that.    
  
“He’s so nice.  He can be kinda scary, you know, but he’s been really nice to me, especially lately.”  Buffy looked down at her hands, sadness stealing through her.  “Not like everyone else.”  
  
And just like that he was crouched down in front of her, her hands in his, words he hadn’t  had any intention of saying to her tumbling from his lips.  “They’re idiots.  Don’t pay them any mind.  You don’t have to be ashamed for anything.  You’ve done nothing wrong, kitten it’s just an. . .it happens, not anyone’s fault.”  
  
 _I’m not gonna cry.  I’m not gonna cry in front of him.  I’m not._   The thoughts circled round even as she watched the tears pooling on their clasped hands.  “I’m scared.  And no one’s talking to me, just Xander and Willow and everyone’s making fu . . fun of me.  Her breathing hitched and caught as the tears fell harder and Will was hard pressed to fight the need to pull her into his arms and hold her close.    
  
Knowing he was doing the wrong thing, he disengaged one hand and wiped away her tears, intoning softly, “Shhhh. . . it’s goin’ t’be okay, kitten, it will.”    
  
Buffy was sort of arguing with him, “No.    It’s not gonna be okay.  My mom is so mad at me she barely talks to me and Willow doesn’t. . . get it and Xander’s the only one who’s been nice to me, but that’s coz his mom was six-sixteen when and,” she sort of collapsed in on herself and Will knew his inner battle was lost.  Kissing away his resolve to stay away from her, he pulled her into his arms and rocked her gently.  
  
“It’s okay.  I promise it’ll get better, maybe not right away, but things will work out, you’ll see.”  One hand was on her back, alternately rubbing up and down and circling her, the other was holding her head against his shoulder and all he could think was that someone should be worrying about her like this all the time.  _She’s such a tiny little thing, how the hell is she goin’ to be able to do all the hard things she’s gonna have to do soon?  Poor little kitten._  
  
Finally the tears subsided and Buffy held onto him, her hand curled around his upper arm, just breathing softly in the aftermath of her breakdown.  Her breath drifted across his neck and Will suppressed his body’s reaction to having her so close. _No.  You wanker.  Not bloody now._ Battling with his own inner voice, he nearly missed Buffy’s quavering words.  
  
“Thanks so much.  I feel like such an idiot.  I keep crying for the stupidest reasons.”  She sniffled, wiping her tears against his black cotton tee shirt.    
  
“Can’t help them.  Hormones and such, probably be worse before the end.  Don’t have to apologize for that, sweets.”  Will’s deep voice sounded so good next to her ear, just like she’d imagined it would and Buffy snuggled in closer, silently wishing he would keep talking.  After a short pause, he did start talking again.  “So, why are you out here at this time of night?”  
  
“Had another fight with my mom.  She thinks it would be a good idea if I gave the baby up for adoption.”  Buffy took another deep breath, continuing, “Said it would be good for the baby to have a better life than I could give it.  But it’s my baby.  And who’s going to love it more than me?  I’m scared that baby won’t get . . . and I don’t really want to give her up.”  
  
“You know it’s not goin’ to be easy, raising a baby alone.  What about school and all the rest?”  But she was shaking her head, her arguments already in place.    
  
“No.  I can go to school anytime, even at night as long as I have a babysitter and I can work from home or something, I don’t have to worry about that now.  Right now she’s the important thing.”  
  
He had to admire her determination and part of him wasn’t willing to destroy her optimism.  But he knew firsthand exactly how hard it could be for a single parent.  After all, he’d lived with one up until going off to university.  _Is that why you’re letting her worm her way under your skin, mate?_  
  
Once more, his mouth started moving before his brain was completely engaged, and holding her close, Will started speaking.  “My mum got married young, not much older ‘an you are now, but she and my da waited a bit to have me.  Everything was roses, even after I was born, then my dad got sick and when I was about three, he passed on.”  He paused a bit, lost in the memories of his mother always crying and trying to be strong for him.  “Wasn’t easy, and she had to go on the dole for a bit, even with the money Uncle Rupes was givin’ her.  She went back to work soon as I was in school, an’ didn’t stop until she  passed on.”  
  
They were silent for a bit, both of them lost in thought, neither one of them willing to break the comfortable silence until, finally, Buffy said, “I’m sorry.”    
  
He tilted his head to the side to get glance at her face and she smiled sadly at him, “What’re you saying sorry for?”  
  
“Because you had it way worse than I did.”  She made an aborted shrugging gesture and Will chuckled a bit.  
  
“Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout.  Wasn’t your fault, wasn’t really anyone’s.  My da got cancer and m’mum just never really recovered from losing ‘im.  At times I think the only reason she lasted as long as she did was for me.”  He shifted, getting more comfortable, easing the pressure off his knees and then his voice sounded again.  “Anyway, didn’t tell you all this for sympathy, pet, told you because . . . well, dunno why exactly I told you.”  
  
And he didn’t, not really.  Part of him just wanted to share something of himself with her, letting her know that he understood how hard it was and that she wasn’t the first girl to go through something like this.  Circumstances might have been just a little different in his case, but Will knew that his mother would have fought tooth and nail to keep him – hell, she’d done it.    
  
Her lips brushed against his neck so softly that he wasn’t even sure he’d felt it, and her whispered “Thank you for telling me,” wafted gossamer soft in the air between them.    
  
Closing his eyes, William fought a battle with himself.  His heart was telling him to keep her close and protect her from the very harsh reality that was about to come knocking on her door, but his logical mind was telling him that she was seventeen, and in this country at least, off limits to him.  Before he could out-think himself, Will sighed once more, then nudged her a bit, “C’mon kitten, let’s get you home.”  
  
But she was already asleep, her face pressed against his chest, her hand curled around his neck.  
  
Struggling to his feet, Will held onto her, never once losing his hold on her.  Heading in the direction of her house, William shut down his brain and refused to think at all about anything.  
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
  
She woke up halfway home, shifting in his arms.  
  
“Almost there, kitten” was his statement when she made questioning noises about what was happening.  
  
He stopped two houses away from hers, when he noticed all the lights on at her house.  “Buffy?  Does your mother normally stay up this late?”  
  
Following the line of his gaze, she sighed, then started to move out of his arms.  “She’s not awake.  She just forgot to turn off all the lights.”  Not looking at him, she said softly, “She does that when she’s been drinking.”  
  
By the tone and resignation in her voice, Will knew it was a fairly often occurrence.  At a loss for words, he just watched her as she squared her shoulders preparing to head home.  Her thank you was a bare whisper in the night air and William was hard pressed to keep his mouth shut and just let her go.  
  
“Buffy?”  He caught up with her when she was a couple of feet away, his hand reaching out to stop her.  She looked up at him, tears pooling in her eyes and his heart contracted.  “Listen, if you need anything, someone to talk to, come see me, okay?”  
  
The words she wanted to say got caught in her throat, choking her so that all she could do was nod her head in understanding.  The tears that had been threatening broke free to slide in twin tracks down her face.   
  
Will pulled her against his chest, letting her cry out her sorrows.  For long moments he just held her until finally she moved away, again not looking at him, Buffy said, “Thanks.  I just. . . Sometimes it’s really hard, you know?  Pretending everything’s okay.  Pretending I’m okay.”  
  
“I know.  Life’s not easy, kitten, and some of us have it harder than others.  But you’ll get through it.”  
  
She shrugged, then looked up at him.  “Thanks.  For listening.  For just. . . thanks.”  
  
“Anytime.”  
  
And surprising neither of them, Buffy moved back into his arms, hugging him, her arms around his waist.  Will hugged her back, enjoying the feel of her in his arms and didn’t even realize he’d kissed her forehead until she gazed up at him.  
  
Breaking away from her hold, Will said gruffly, “Best get inside now, Buffy.  It’s late.”  
  
Without another word, but a somewhat confused look on her face, Buffy sprinted away.  
  
Will stood watching the house long after all the lights were out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ever see two magnets? How they can’t help but be pulled together? This couple are just like that. Can’t keep them apart. So why fight it? Title is a line from one of Sarah McLachlan’s songs, see if you can figure out which one.


	8. There’s two words to that bargain.

_**Eighth.  There’s two words to that bargain.  
  
The tie which links mother and child   
is of such pure and immaculate strength   
as to be never violated.   
        Washington Irving  
  
A bargain is in its very essence a hostile transaction. . .   
do not all men try to abate the price of all they buy?   
I contend that a bargain even between brethren   
is a declaration of war.   
        George Gordon Noel Byron,  Letter, July 14, 1821**_  
  
  
  
Normally she’d be hanging with Willow and Xander all day, since it was Saturday and nothing much was on her agenda.  But she was home, feeling decidedly miserable.  Buffy had woken up this morning, sicker than she’d ever been in her whole life.  Every time she moved, her stomach threatened to spew itself all over everything, including herself; her head was pounding and she just felt awful.  
  
She didn’t think this was just the baby although being pregnant certainly wasn’t helping.  Buffy rolled over slowly trying to keep the room from spinning.  
  
 _Oh, baby, do you have to?  Can you just give Mommy a break, please?  Mommy really doesn’t feel so good._   Settling her face against her pillow, Buffy thought over how things had changed in the last two weeks.  Everything had just gone crazy.  Riley and she were a – well, she’d thought they were a solid couple and college wasn’t that far away.  Now, no more Riley and college was going to be put off for a while, at least until baby was ready to go to school.   It was weird but she wasn’t really upset about either of those things.    
  
 _Guess it kinda doesn’t matter anymore.  None of that is important.  Okay, Buffy, stop lying to yourself.  Not having Riley hurts._ He’d chased after her, begging her to go out with him but she’d resisted, not liking him nearly as much as he’d liked her.  She’d finally given in, and he’d grown on her, little by little, although she’d never really been in love with him, not the way he’d said he loved her.  
  
Riley had said it all the time, while Buffy had been more guarded, shielding her heart, afraid of letting him in.  Looking at how things were going now, she’d done the right thing.  
  
 _So smart with the not trusting of Riley.  He’s not a good guy, baby.  He doesn’t want anything to do with us._  
  
After the incident in school, her mother had insisted on getting her an order of protection, using their size difference and his almost stalking of her as the reasons why she should be wary of him.  Buffy didn’t have the energy to fight with her mother over that.  It was hard enough fighting with her over the baby.  
  
And had they been fighting.  Constantly.  Over every little thing.  Just last night had been – they’d done nothing but scream at each other, neither one of them backing down.  At first, when Buffy had told her mother she was pregnant, Joyce had tried talking her into terminating the pregnancy.  Buffy had, for once, reacted calmly, saying simply, “No, Mom.”  
  
Which had pretty much ended that discussion.  Joyce’s latest campaign was for Buffy to give up the baby for adoption, pulling out all her arguments.  Resting her hand on her still flat belly, Buffy thought about the conversation she’d had with Mr. Stevenson the other night.  She had lots of questions for him about how his mother had managed it on her own and she wondered if he would be willing to tell her more.  
  
 _Oh, baby, if only Riley was more like him.  I don’t think he would pretend we don’t exist.  He would be trying to see us every day and he’d take care of us, I’m sure of it._ Tears seeped from beneath her closed eyes and Buffy’s thoughts changed tact – _who am I kidding?  He’s not thinking of me the way I want him too.  I bet he doesn’t even think of me at all.  Except as one of his students and a dopey one – one that was stupid enough to get pregnant._  
  
Curling up into a ball, Buffy was so wrapped up in her own misery she never even heard the doorbell.  
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
Joyce was in the kitchen, going over her shopping for the week, going over in her mind how to tell Buffy she was leaving for a nearly week long buying trip, when her attention was distracted by the doorbell.  Sighing heavily, Joyce got up from her seat to answer the door, not wanting to know who was disturbing her Saturday afternoon.  
  
She was not prepared for the sight that greeted her.    
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
When his father had presented his proposal to him, part of Riley had wanted to balk at the solution his parents had come up with, and another part of him wanted to just give in.  Unfortunately, the part that wanted to protest was a very small part.  Riley wanted to go to West Point more than he wanted anything else.  From the time he was five years old, when his father got his gold stars, he wanted to go to West Point and be just like him.  Nothing was going to stand in his way.  So he’d thought about it for about five minutes and nodded his agreement.    
  
His father had prepared himself, getting his speech and false sincerity in place for the coming confrontation, instructing Riley to do the same.  He and the boy were going to present themselves at the Summers residence.  
  
Which was where they were now, on the last Saturday in October, preparing to discuss things with Buffy’s mother.  
  
The first thing Joyce did upon seeing them both standing at her front door, the elder Mr. Finn in full uniform and Riley in a suit, was slam it in their faces.    
  
Riley looked at his father, then hit the doorbell again.  Joyce was torn between answering it and ignoring it when Buffy appeared at the top of the steps, looking decidedly under the weather.  “Mom?  Who is it?”  
  
Glancing up at her daughter, Joyce’s features softened.  As much as she hated this situation, she did love her daughter and she hated seeing her like this.  “It’s Riley and his father.”  
  
Buffy’s legs gave out underneath her and she fell hard against the top step.  “Mom?”  
  
Joyce nodded her head, her features settling while she ignored the knock at the door.  “I know, honey.  Do you want me to send them away?”    
  
“Might as well let them in, Mom.  I have a feeling Riley’s dad doesn’t take no for an answer.”  
  
“All right then.”  Joyce resolutely opened the door, just as the General was preparing to knock.    
  
Joyce waited for them to speak, her stance belligerent and protective.  “Mrs. Summers?  May my son and I come in to speak with you and your daughter?”  
  
Giving them the full measure of her disdain, Joyce looked straight at the General, not intimidated by either his rank or his size.  “Your son is not permitted any contact with my daughter.  I don’t want him near her.”  
  
“Mrs. Summers.  I believe with the two of us in attendance, no harm will come to your daughter.  In fact I can guarantee that my son will not move unless I give him permission.  Do we have your consent to this meeting?”  
  
“I’m not happy with this, General.”  Joyce saw nothing on either of their faces to inspire any amount of trust.  “I don’t believe this is a good idea.”  
  
“I still believe you and your daughter should hear us out.”  The General was implacable, his body language and stance confident that Joyce would let him in the door, despite her obvious reluctance.  
  
With a glance up the steps at Buffy to see what her reaction to this was, Joyce waited until she nodded her head in acceptance.  _Better off just getting this over and done, coz I so just wanna go back to bed.  I feel like shit._   Getting slowly to her feet, Buffy walked past the door to curl up on the couch, not waiting for the others to enter.  She never even looked at Riley, deciding that looking at him might not help her upset stomach.  
  
“Come in, gentlemen.”  Joyce placed added sarcastic stress on the last word, not-so subtly letting them know how she felt about the pair of them.  
  
The General strode into the house like he thought he owned it, which just aggravated an  already on edge Joyce and Riley never once glanced at Buffy, which also set her teeth to grinding.  Joyce realized that she was going to have to get a grip on her temper otherwise whatever they had to say was going to descend quickly into a shouting match, if not something worse.  
  
“Buffy?  How are you feeling?”  Surprised by the tone in the General’s voice, Buffy looked up at him as he stood over her, sincerity on his face, but something else glittering in his eyes.  
  
“Not so good.”  She shifted, trying to get more comfortable, then reached for the throw blanket behind her.  “Thank you for asking.”  
  
Satisfied with her answer, he moved to take the chair opposite, while her mother, forestalling any attempt by Riley to sit anywhere near Buffy, sat beside Buffy on the couch.  “What is it you want?”    
Joyce was under no illusions that this was a social call, given the attire and the demeanor of the man sitting in her chair.  And since she harbored no illusions, she wasn’t about to be cordial or act like a welcoming and gracious hostess, offering them drinks and making them welcome.  Had Riley perhaps not acted the way he did, she might have done things differently, but Joyce was not in a forgiving mood.    
  
“I’d like to offer your daughter a choice, Mrs. Summers.”  The General’s tone was calm and even, his gaze never wavering from Buffy’s face.  
  
“And what is that?”  Joyce’s maternal instincts went into hyper-drive fearing that the next words out of the General’s mouth were going to be devastating to her only child.  
  
“Riley is a candidate for West Point, in fact got his appointment letter just last week.  I’m not sure if you are familiar with the standards of the Academies, but none of them allow the cadets or midshipmen to have family entanglements or dependents.”     
  
Buffy shared a look with her mother, getting a sinking sick feeling in her belly about all of this.  Her mind was screaming at her, and she placed a protective hand over her belly.    
  
“While I respect your daughter’s right to chose what’s best for her, I’d like you to consider what might also be best for Riley.  We are willing to shoulder any financial burden that might be incurred should your daughter decide to terminate the situation.”  
  
Buffy’s face drained of all color, and her heart plummeted to her feet.  _Oh no.  no.  no.  no.  I am not. . ._ “I’m not going to have an abortion, whether you pay for it or not.”  
  
Joyce, meanwhile, was sitting on the other end of the couch, stunned and completely speechless.  She couldn’t believe that the General had just said what she thought he’d said.    
  
Finding her voice, and after a long look at Buffy, Joyce got to her feet moving toward her front door.  “General, I think you should leave now.  This conversation is over.”  
  
The General didn’t move to get up, instead, he leaned forward to where Buffy sat, tears in her eyes, one hand still curled protectively over her belly.  Earnestly, he said, in a tone of voice designed to gain her confidence, “Having a baby at your age alone isn’t easy.  Think of all the things you’ll miss, all the things you could be doing instead of staying home and taking care of a fatherless baby.  You don’t want that.  You’re young.  You shouldn’t have to worry about anything but college and other boys.  You have your whole life ahead of you.  Don’t throw it away on this one situation.”  
  
“My baby isn’t a ‘situation’, General.  It’s a baby.  Mine.  I’m not going to kill it to make your son more comfortable.”    
  
Before the General could speak again, Joyce stood between him and Buffy, blocking his view of her now openly crying daughter.  “I said you should leave.  I want you out of my house.  Now.”  
  
The General looked up into the set features of Joyce Summers and knew when he was defeated.  _Time to regroup and rethink the current strategy._   Getting to his feet, Kevin Finn looked down once more at Buffy and with a sideways glance to ensure his son was following, left the house without another word.  
  
Joyce was shaking, no outlet for her anger, and she very nearly threw something at the door when it closed behind the Finns; and it was only the sobs of her daughter that stopped her from doing so.  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
It was supposed to be a date.  He was supposed to be having fun, enjoying the company of a female adult, with the possibility of more sometime in the future.  So what was he doing?  Sitting in a restaurant, eating a decent meal and paying no attention to the woman on the opposite side of the table.   He’d actually been doing okay, up until fifteen minutes ago, when some woman sat down two tables away and something about the way she walked reminded him of Buffy.  Will found himself staring at the table, wishing it was her, so that he could go over and interrupt.    
  
That hope was . . . r _eally, Will, what the hell are you thinking?  What the bloody hell are you thinking?  Hoping that it’s Buffy?  She’s a kid._   Mentally placing his head in his hands and groaning at his own stupidity, William tried to refocus his attention on his date.  It didn’t work.  
  
Jenny was a nice woman, but really, she was much better suited to date his uncle.  _Oh.  There you go.  That’s an idea._   Liking that idea the more he thought about it, Will smiled at the dark haired woman, leaned forward and said, “Jenny, I want you to meet someone.”  
  
“Really?”  She was intrigued.  
  
“Yeah.  His name’s Rupert Giles, but don’t let that put you off meeting him.”  He smiled at her and Jenny sighed a bit.  She wasn’t stupid, she knew the start of a brush off when she heard one.  
  
“So why do you want me to meet Rupert Giles?”  
  
“I think you’d get along with him.”  Inhaling deeply, Will gathered his courage and told her at least a partial truth.  “I’m sorry.  My mind isn’t on you and that’s not fair.  I like you, I do, but – it’s. . .”   
  
Jenny thought about letting him flounder about a bit more, but the truth was, while she found him attractive, _and really what woman wouldn’t_ , the more they talked the less they had in common.  So she let him off the hook.  “I understand.  Really, I do.  It’s okay.”  Looking down at her half eaten dinner, she said wistfully, “I really hate to leave though, because this is really good.”  
  
Relief clearly on his features, Will smiled broadly.  “Tell you what, let’s stay and finish this while I tell you all about Rupes.”  
  
Jenny looked up, a slight smile playing about her features.  “Sounds good to me.”    
  
Pressure off, Will relaxed back into his seat and proceeded to tell Jenny Calendar all about his uncle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is from Jonathan Swift (Polite Conversation, dialogue iii).


	9. The map of honor

_**Ninth.  The map of honor  
  
Reputation is what other people know about you.   
Honor is what you know about yourself.   
    Lois McMaster Bujold, A Civil Campaign  
  
I am grateful, you know,   
for the ill-conceived and high-handed attempt   
to defend my honor although I didn't want you to.  
    Inara, Firefly, Episode I **_  
  
  
  
Next week was Thanksgiving.  Hard to believe so much time had passed.  It was the strangest time of her life.  The days were endless, excruciatingly long, dragging on to the point of making her scream, lasting forever and yet the weeks flew by quickly.  
  
There hadn’t been any word from Riley either, not that Buffy had been expecting any, except some explanation of that stuff with his father would have been nice.  But there was nothing.  No word, no phone call.  Not even a glimpse of him in the hallways.  Which really sort of suited her just fine.  She didn’t need him.  Didn’t even really want him anymore.  It just would have been nice to have someone she could lean on, someone to be there for her, someone more than just her mom.  
  
And that too had been weird.  Well, her mom’s behavior anyway.  She’d been out of town again for another buying trip, but she was being nice to her.  Almost too nice.  They had even bonded some during Buffy’s first real doctor’s appointment, both of them crying when the baby’s heartbeat filled the room, magnified by the ultrasound.  
  
 _Hey, baby, what about Zoe?  Wanna be a Zoe?  Hhhmmm?  Or what about Sara?  Or Brandy?  Like any of those?  Do you?  C’mon, baby, gotta have a name.  Can’t call you baby all the time._ Buffy smiled, thinking about the movie Dirty Dancing and how everyone had called the girl Baby, even though her name had been Frances.   _Oh!  Frances?  Oh never mind, don’t really like Franny._ Wrinkling up her nose, Buffy continued to flip through  the baby name book Willow had given her.  
  
She was sitting in the courtyard again, waiting for Willow and Xander to come and get her so they could head out to lunch, just enjoying the sunshine and trying to find a name.  There was a cheerleaders meeting after school, but Buffy knew she wasn’t going.  They’d removed her from the squad – ok, they’d asked her not so nicely to step down and the rest of the girls were picking her replacement today.  
  
Wiping a tear from her eyes, Buffy decided she wasn’t going to get upset about it anymore.  None of the girls talked to her anyway, so it wasn’t that big a deal.  _Yeah, okay.  Right.  It still hurts._ Even Cordelia’s halting apology two days ago still hurt, though she at least had made the effort.  None of the others had.  
  
 _Oh, baby, we can rule out Brunhilda or Bohumila.  Not going there at all._   A noise, a really loud Xander sounding noise caught her attention and Buffy got up to see what was wrong.  Xander had his back to her, his fist lifted and he was looking down at someone.  Buffy moved closer and his name was out of her mouth before she realized it.    
  
“Riley?”  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
  
Xander and Willow had gotten caught going the wrong way, hundreds of kids heading in the direction away from the courtyard were streaming through the hallways like salmon swimming upstream.  Grabbing her hand and tugging her behind him, Xander tried blocking his way through.  
  
They hadn’t made it very far when he stopped dead, Willow plowing into his back.  “Xander?  Why’d you stop?”  
  
“Staying out of the way of pond scum.”  Xander’s voice was overly loud and several passing students craned their heads to see what he was talking about.  
  
Willow peered around his side, spying Riley and a couple of other people standing in the hallway.  “Oh.  C’mon, Xander, let’s go.”  
  
But Xander had seen something Willow hadn’t, which was Riley’s arm slung casually around Harmony’s shoulders.  Which sort of more than pissed Xander off.  
  
It was the first time Xander had seen the other teen since Buffy had told them about the Finns’ generous offer.  That alone was enough to shred his temper.  And now seeing Harmony and Riley all cutsie?  Too much.  Buffy was like his sister – he loved her the way he loved Willow and this was just wrong.  So he got mad.  
  
“Gee.  Got yourself a new girl real quick.  Guess we know how much of a stand-up guy you are.”  Not taking his eyes from a suddenly glowering Riley, Xander addressed his next comments to the blond bimbo by his side.  “Harm, you better hope you never need Riley to defend you or you know, stand by you when things get rough, coz, hey, Riley doesn’t have the balls to stick around longer than the time it takes to zip his pants.”  
  
A chorus of groans and laughter filled the hallway and there were some high fives for Xander from some of the spectators, but Xander didn’t waste any time resting on his laurels, he was too angry for that.  “But really, you won’t have to worry about that, coz, Daddy Finn will just write you a check for your troubles.”  
  
Riley dropped his arm from around Harmony, dumped his backpack on the floor and charged at Xander.  Driving the slightly smaller teen backwards, Riley pushed him out through the door to the courtyard.    
  
Willow panicked and somehow got separated from Xander, ending up down the hallway just outside the teacher’s lounge.  As luck would have it, the first face she saw was a friendly one.    
  
“Mr. Stevenson?  Xander.  Riley.”  Was all she managed to stutter out, though he understood her completely.  
  
“Where?”  And following her pointed finger and the now audible sounds of a scuffle, Will headed off in the direction of the courtyard at a rapid pace, Willow on his heels.  
  
Xander, recovered from Riley’s push, was back on his feet and had rocked Riley off his with a solid right punch to the jaw.  
  
Riley was on his ass, long legs splayed out in front of him, blinking his eyes rapidly trying to relieve the pain from Xander’s punch when Buffy’s voice broke through the noise of twenty or so kids that were surrounding them.   
  
“Riley?  Xander?”  She looked from one to the other, both boys breathing heavily.  “What’s going on?”  
  
“Buff?  Move back, just get outta the way.”  Xander didn’t exactly tell her what was going on, although he figured she could easily guess.  
  
“Don’t do this, he’s really not worth it.  C’mon, Xand, please?”  She went to grab his arm, but Xander flinched away, stepping around her to face Riley, who was back on his feet. Xander turned slightly to tell Buffy to get out of the way, his attention momentarily off Riley.  The other teen took advantage of his distraction and punched him in the side of his head, then followed up with another blow to his gut.  Xander hunched over, then forcibly pushed Buffy out of the way and into someone else’s arms.    
  
She barely had time to register that it was Mr. Stevenson before he too was pushing her aside, into the arms of Cordelia and Willow, who both moved her out of the way.  
  
Xander had rammed into Riley’s gut, like the linebacker he was and once more knocked him down; followed up by a series of punches that would have done Joe Frazier proud.  Someone pulled Xander off Riley and Riley’s friend Forrest hauled him to his feet.  
  
Oz had Xander by the arm while Forrest held back Riley, who was still trying to break free and get to Xander.  It was into this circle that Mr. Stevenson stepped, his voice calm and his eyes moving between the two sets of teenaged boys.    “Calm down, boys.  Let’s just all calm down.”  
  
Xander wiped some snot and blood away from his nose, his eyes trained on Riley, who was bleeding from a cut over his eye and another on his temple.  
  
Knowing he’d gotten the better of the taller teenager, Xander sneered at Riley, ready to mouth off some more.  Xander watched as Riley shook off Forrest’s hold, charging toward him.  
  
What happened next had Xander blinking in astonishment; as Riley tried to make it past Mr. Stevenson, the English teacher calmly lifted his fist and slammed it into Riley’s jaw, effectively pole-axing him.  Riley Finn went down to his knees in a heartbeat and then Stevenson had him in a wrestler’s hold, both Riley’s arms pinned to his body.  
  
“Told you to stop, Finn.  Better learn how to follow orders.”  Stevenson’s voice was a low growl, raising the hairs on the back of Xander’s neck.  
  
“Some people really have to learn the hard way.”  
  
      
*****************************************************************  
  
  
Buffy saw Riley nearly sucker punch Xander and then hit him again and then she was held tight in someone’s arms, hugged and shoved away into Cordelia’s arms and then Willow was there and the tears were falling and she really didn’t know why.  
  
Through her tears she realized it had been Mr. Stevenson who had hugged her and pushed her out of the way, because he was standing between the boys, saying, “Let’s just all calm down.”  
  
For half a minute everyone was calm, the boys breathing heavily then Riley got away from Forrest and started to charge at Xander, but Mr. Stevenson lifted his fist and knocked the bigger teen off his feet.  
  
Mr. Stevenson stepped behind Riley, getting him in a wrestler’s hold and said in a chilling voice, “Told you to stop, Finn.  Better learn how to follow orders.”  When Riley bucked up against him, trying to break his hold, Stevenson ground out, “Some people really have to learn the hard way.”  
  
Buffy clung onto Willow and Cordelia, crying softly, her hiccups the only sound in the suddenly silent courtyard.  Stevenson’s head popped up, searching around for the source.  Finding the three girls and the visibly upset blond one, Will jumped to the conclusion that she’d somehow gotten hurt.  His hold on Finn tightened and his temper flared again.  
  
“Take her to the nurse.”  Looking at Xander, who was quietly standing two feet away, trying to stop the flow of blood from his nose, Will made another decision.  “Go with them, Harris.  Then get yourself to Giles’ office.”  
  
Easing off Riley, Will stepped back, but not before digging his thumb into the side of Riley’s neck.  “Get to your feet, Finn.”  
  
Standing between Riley Finn and his former girlfriend and her friends, Will fought a grim sense of satisfaction.  
  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
  
Cordelia walked beside the two girls, not really listening to their hushed and tear-filled conversation.  Her attention was on the figure walking on her other side, slightly ahead of her, his head bent and shoulders in a defensive slouch.  
  
Her hand on his arm startled him and Xander flinched away from her, but Cordelia just sort of smiled at him.  “Are you okay?”  
  
“I’m fine.  Just a bloody nose.”  Xander shrugged off the purple knot on his cheek, dismissing it completely.  “No big deal.”  
  
Surprising both of them, Cordelia argued with him, “It was a big deal.  That was really sweet what you did.  Not very smart, but sweet.”  
  
Xander’s step faltered and he looked at her.  “Thanks, Cordy.  I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”  
  
“Yeah well, don’t get used to it.”  She retorted, sweeping past him into the nurse’s office.  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
Once more, Riley Finn found himself cooling his heels outside Assistant Principal Rupert Giles’ office, awaiting sentence.  _This is not good.  So not good.  My father is going to kill me.  West Point – oh god, what the hell is gonna happen?  It wasn’t my fault, though.  It really wasn’t.  Xander started this whole thing.  I was minding my own business.  I was._  
  
His lip was bleeding and he could feel the trickle of blood from a couple of cuts on his face.   His head hurt and his knuckles were scraped and sore and the spot on his belly where Xander had head-butted him hurt like hell; yet those were the very least of his worries.  
  
There was real danger of his appointment being withdrawn.  So the sick feeling in his belly had nothing to do with the fight, instead having everything to do with seeing all his dreams crumble to dust.  
  
Mr. Stevenson was behind closed doors with Mr. Giles and Riley knew he was about to get hit with his second suspension in less than a month.  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
Taking one look at the four teens in front of her, knowing one of them was pregnant and also knowing they were all friendly, Brandy West, school nurse, quickly put two and two together.  
  
Hustling Willow and Buffy into the screened off area, Nurse West focused on Xander.  “Sit down, Harris.”  
  
Gently yet firmly tending to his nose, she said matter of factly, “It’s not broken but you’re sporting some pretty bruises.”  Handing him an ice pack, she continued, “Get that on your face and tilt your head back.  I’m going to pinch your nose until the bleeding stops.”  
  
Nodding his acceptance, Xander waited, forcing away a surprised smile when Cordelia slipped her hand into his.  
  
  
************************************************************************  
  
  
Will was pacing back and forth from one end of the office to the opposite, his temper momentarily beyond control.  
  
Giles sat on his desk, knowing that giving his nephew a few moments was the best course of action.  Normally he was a fairly mild mannered person, though when he got angry, Will’s temper was deadly and had been a cause of much alarm when he was younger.  
  
At the moment, Will wasn’t entirely sure what was fueling his current temper.  He’d guessed earlier, remarking so to his uncle one night when they were working late, it would only be a matter of time before Harris and Finn came to blows, and he’d been correct.  Wasn’t hard to spot, Harris was constantly shadowing Buffy, shielding her from the more harsh comments and stares as much as he could.  
  
 _Buffy.  She’d been there.  Oh shit._   “Have you got enough?  Finn’s outside.  I’ll go get Harris.”  
  
Before Giles could say anything, Will was gone, stalking out of the office.    
  
Giles sat there for another few moments, trying to make sense of what just happened.  
  
Opening his door, Giles motioned Riley inside.  
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
Buffy was lying on her side, her eyes lightly closed, just listening to the sounds of movement in the outer office.  Willow and Cordelia had been sent onto their classes, so both she and Xander were alone.  She was drifting, just sort of floating when there was a different noise in the outer room and she could just make out the sound of voices.  
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
  
Will got Sara Logan to cover his English class for him, then headed for the nurse’s office.  His first sight was Xander sitting on a chair, head back, ice pack over one eye.  “How’re you feeling, Harris?”  
  
“Not so good.  Feel like I went ten rounds with a bull.”  Laughing a bit, he continued,  “But other than that I’m good.”  
  
Will smiled despite the fact Xander couldn’t see him.  His smile disappeared however, as he realized that Xander Harris, along with Riley Finn was about to be suspended for fighting.  “You’ll be suspended.”  
  
“Yeah, I know.  That’s okay.”  More than resigned to his fate, Xander shrugged from behind the towel covering his face.  “I’ll survive.”  
  
“When you’re done here you have to head to Mr. Giles’ office.”  Will patted his shoulder then moved away to find Nurse West.  
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
  
There was a soft knock on the wall beside the closed curtain.  Buffy mumbled something and whoever it was slid aside the curtain then stood beside her bed.  
  
A strong hand ran down her hair, over her shoulder, then tugged at the blanket she had let fall, pulling it up over her.  A sniffle escaped her and Buffy hoped whoever it was would just leave her alone because it wasn’t someone she . . wasn’t him.  
  
“Buffy?  Are you okay?”  
  
Disbelieving at first it was him, she didn’t look up until he said her name again.  
  
She stared up at him, tears pooling in her big green eyes and Will could only gather her up into his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from the Bard, (in thy face I see, the map of honor, truth and loyalty) from Henry VI, Part II, act iii, scene i.


	10. Conversations kill

_**Tenth.  Conversations kill  
  
Kind words can warm for three winters,   
while harsh words can chill even in the heat of summer.   
    Chinese proverb  
  
The most loving parents and relatives commit   
murder with smiles on their faces.   
They force us to destroy the person we really are:   
a subtle kind of murder.    
    Jim Morrison, In Their Own Words: The Doors**_  
  
  
  
Buffy found out later that both Xander and Riley got suspended for three days each.  It was hours later, after she got home and Willow called her to talk and she’d dished all the gossip about what had happened after Buffy was sent home.   It wasn’t hard to guess though, because they had been fighting and the school had a strict policy about fights.  What did surprise her about the whole thing was what happened after, and something she couldn’t tell Willow about at all.  
  
Mr. Stevenson had held her for a long time, letting her cry on his shoulder, neither one of them saying a word.  When the bell rang signaling class change, Mr. Stevenson had kissed the top of her head, letting her go.  Just like that.  The whole time he’d held her, he’d never said a word.  
  
Her mind had been blissfully blank for the rest of the day, afraid to think about what had happened that afternoon between the two of them.  She was home now, lying on the couch watching Oprah gush to some celebrity, but her thoughts were miles away.  
  
It was so sweet – _oh god, baby, he just let me cry and he held me.  Took care of mommy.  He was . . . God, he smells sooo good.  Really good.  I could have stayed like that for hours._  
  
A deep sigh shook her.  _Oh well._ He doesn’t – _okay, Buffy, just stop it.  He does – he cared enough to just stay and hold you so he cares.  Just a little, which is really nice._   Her mind drifted off into daydreams, imagining the baby in her belly wasn’t unwanted, that baby had a mommy and a daddy that wanted her.  
  
The phone ringing broke into her reverie and Buffy finally picked it up.  “Hey, Buffster, feeling any better?”  
  
She laughed a little bit.  “Really should be asking you that question, Xand.  How’s your eye?”  
  
“Looks like a great big purple mountain on my head.  Can’t see out of it.”  His tone was flip, shrugging off her concern.  
  
“Xand, what you did for me.  Thanks.”  Buffy really didn’t know what else to say to him.  
  
“He needed his ass kicked.  He needs more than that.  I just wish I could have really gotten him good.”  Xander’s tone of voice grew hard, thinking about how callous and unfeeling Riley was being.  
  
“I know.”  There was nothing else she could say about it.  
  
“Buffy?  What do you think of Cordelia?”  
  
Well that was an unexpected change of subject.  Buffy didn’t know what to say.  “Cordelia of the super rich Chases?  That Cordelia?”  
  
“Yeah.  That one.  You know many other Cordelias?”  
  
She laughed again at his sarcasm and Xander smiled.  It was good to hear Buffy laugh, because lately there hadn’t been much at all for Buffy to be lauhing about.  “She’s not so bad.  At least she hasn’t been mean to me.  So that’s good.”  
  
Taking the plunge and getting to the real reason why he called, Xander asked, “Do you know if she likes me?”  
  
“Xander?  Cordy?”  It had never occurred to her that Xander and Cordy might be a couple, but that kind of explained some things.  “I dunno, Xander, but I guess I could find out.”  
  
Making plans to do that, Buffy hung up the phone and settled down into the couch, falling into a light sleep, dreams of Cordelia and Xander and icy blue eyes.  
  
  
****************************************************************  
  
  
His phone rang and Will looked up from the truly horrendous papers he was grading, grateful for the interruption.    
  
“‘Lo.”  His uncle’s voice filled his ears, and Will laughed when the first word out of the old man’s mouth was, “Thanks.”  
  
Knowing full well what he was talking about, Will teased him by asking, “For what?”  
  
“You know damned well what I’m thanking you for – don’t play stupid with me.”  There was an answering chuckle in his uncle’s tone.  
  
“I know?  Really?  Gee, Rupes, is that gratitude I hear in your voice?”  Will was enjoying this, he’d known halfway into their meal that Jenny wasn’t the one for him.  Smart, chic, witty, and admittedly attractive, Jenny was the kind of woman any man would be happy to have – but, her eyes were brown – not green shot with gold and her hair was dark, not sun-kissed blond. . . and William knew she wasn’t the girl for him.  
  
It had hit him that night on his one and only date with Jenny – in the middle of dinner no less – that the woman he really wanted was still a girl.  Still in high school and had sad, beautiful hazel-green eyes, that pulled him in, kept him prisoner.  
  
Lost in his own thoughts, William completely missed what his uncle was saying.  “What’s that?”  
  
“Never mind, Will, just wanted to let you know that I’m grateful.”  There was real happiness in Rupert’s voice, something Will hadn’t heard in years, not since years before, when his wife Daisy was still around.   
  
“Anytime, Rupes.”  And he meant it.    
  
Rupert Giles hung up the phone, and looking at the woman next to him, smiling broadly.  “I am grateful.”  
  
“I know.  Me too.”    
  
They leaned into each other, their lips meeting in a deep kiss.  
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
  
Buffy was home alone; Joyce was on another buying trip in New York, and she had just woken up from her late afternoon nap.   It was still early, not yet dinner time, but the nap had been so necessary.  The emotional turmoil of the day had just gotten to her and after Xander had called, she’d just drifted off into a nice sleep.  The phone ringing woke her up fully.  
  
She was used to being alone, didn’t really think anything much about it, in fact it was something she looked forward too.  Times like this she was grateful for the reprieve from her mother and never knowing what her parent was going to react negatively too.  Some sixth sense told her that she shouldn’t  answer this particular phone call.  Even as she reached for it, Buffy didn’t want to pick it up.  
  
Maggie Finn’s brusque voice greeted her, with false sincerity warming her tones.  Buffy’s radar went on alert, bracing herself for the bad news that was coming.  
  
It didn’t take Riley’s mother long to get to the point.  “Buffy, I’d like to ask you a question, actually, a few questions.”  The sincerity was gone, replaced with a more business-like timbre.  
  
“I’m sure that’s why you called, so go ahead.”  Buffy twirled the phone cord in her fingers, unable to stem the rising agitation.  
  
“My husband and I would like to make you an offer.  We’d like to offer you financial support in exchange for something from you.”  
  
Icy hot anger laced with hurt raced through her veins, pooling in her belly.  _She wants. . . what?  I can’t believe this. . . this is ridiculous._    Unable to believe this was happening, Buffy stuttered out something that Maggie Finn deliberately misinterpreted as assent and went on talking.  
  
“All you have to do is sign a consent that allows Riley to, well, it would absolve Riley of his parental responsibility.”  Pausing just a bit, Maggie’s voice just kept going, but Buffy wasn’t listening anymore.  
  
 _They don’t want us, baby – either of us.  They wanna give me money so that we won’t . . . oh god, baby.  They don’t want either of us.  I can’t listen to this. . . I really can’t._  
  
“I can’t.  No.  Just don’t call me ever again.”    
  
Buffy hung up the phone, tears sliding down her cheeks, her heart broken.  _Baby girl. . or boy, I’m so sorry.  I can’t believe no one but me wants you.  But I do.  Oh, baby, I want you so much.  I love you and I’m always going to love you.  
_  
The phone rang, interrupting her internal monologue.  Without waiting for the person on the other end to start talking, Buffy said, in a voice thick with tears, “No.  I’m not going to take your money so Riley can have a clear conscience.”  
  
There was silence on the other end of the phone, then a deep, obviously angry English voice intoned, “Please tell me, Buffy, that you didn’t just say what I thought you just said.”  
  
“Mr. S?”  Wiping away her tears, Buffy tried to clear her throat.  
  
“It’s me.  What’s wrong?”  He knew there was something wrong, _hell, you wanker, you calling the girl is wrong,_ but something else was going on that he didn’t know about, something that would cause her to say what she’d just said.  
  
“Nothing.”  If she kept it to one word answers, she could fool him.  Maybe.  Suddenly, despite wanting deeply to confide in him, Buffy was afraid to say anything.  Desperate for some comfort, some one, any one who could just let her rest and protect her, even for just a little while, Buffy let the tears slide down her face.  
  
There was such a long silence on the phone that was so profound that Will swore he could hear the sound of her tears; but Buffy still didn’t speak, she couldn’t.  Everything was collapsing, everything was just . . . her breathing hitched and a sob broke from her lips and the damn around her emotions collapsed.  
  
Sobbing uncontrollably, Buffy curled into herself and dropped onto her knees.    
  
  
****************************************************************  
  
Will refused to think about his actions or assign them a value.  Couldn’t allow himself to think what he was doing was wrong.  All he allowed himself to think of was that Buffy needed him and he’d understood from some of her sobbing that no one was home with her, wouldn’t be home for days.  
  
He couldn’t leave her like that.  Refused to leave her in that condition by herself.  Driving faster than he should, Will made it to Buffy’s in less than ten minutes.  
  
  
****************************************************************  
  
  
There was nothing but tears.  She was hot and cold at the same time, tremors wracking her thin frame and her nose was streaming.  Buffy couldn’t . . . there were only the tears, the salty slickness running down her cheeks.  
  
No one was there to hold her.  No one.  No one loved her.  No one wanted her.  The only person was baby. . . _baby loves mommy.  And mommy loves baby._   That was it.  It was just the two of them.  
  
  
****************************************************************  
  
  
The front door was locked, so Will didn’t bother ringing the bell or knocking, he just went around the house to the kitchen door.  Peering inside he didn’t see Buffy at first and he fought a bit of panic until he heard her loud sniffling.  She was huddled almost in a ball, her head down on her knees, arms curled around her legs.  
  
Prepared to break the glass of the windows, Will turned the knob, surprised when the door opened.  
  
And then he was beside her, gathering her up into his arms, her head cradled against his chest, her tears soaking his dark shirt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not making Riley Finn the bad guy because I need one, I’m making him the bad guy because he is one. Xander on the other hand, Xander. . . could have gone either way, at any point in the show. He could have been a lot of things (and a contender wasn’t one of them), because his character wasn’t always a bigot. He’s going to have his moments, though, but not nearly as bad as I could’ve made him. Title is from Stone Temple Pilots’ song Big Empty.


	11. Talk to me while I’m listening

_**Eleventh.  Talk to me while I’m listening  
  
Do not seek to bring things to pass in accordance with your wishes,   
but wish for them as they are, and you will find them.    
    Epictetus, Enchiridion, VIII  
  
It is hard to contend against one’s heart’s desire;   
for whatever it wishes to have it buys at the cost of soul.    
    Heraclitus, quoted in Hippocrates, On The Universe, aph. 105  
  
But there’s nothing half so sweet in life  
As love’s young dream.    
    Thomas Moore, Love’s Young Dream  
  
And when once the young heart of a maiden is stolen,  
The maiden herself will steal after it soon.   
        Thomas Moore, Ill Omens**_  
  
  
  
  
It took her a long time to realize that she wasn’t alone, that what she’d been praying for was real; that it wasn’t her imagination conjuring up someone to hold her.  It took her even longer to realize that the arms holding her belonged to Will Stevenson.  
  
When the tears stopped, Buffy found herself curled up in the arms of her English teacher, her head on his shoulder tucked under his chin, one hand curled on his opposite shoulder, the other between them.  
  
The sur-reality of the situation struck her as being close to funny and Buffy let loose a watery giggle.  Will looked down at her, and while he was happy the tears had stopped, there was a slightly hysterical note to the laugh that he didn’t like.  
  
“You okay, sunshine?”  His voice was a soft rumble against her ear and she drew in a shaky breath, closing her swollen eyes.   
  
“Sorta.  I think.”  She moved a little, letting her trapped arm circle around his waist.  
  
His arms were around her and she sighed again.  “Buffy, it’s okay if you aren’t.”  His right hand settled on her shoulder and Buffy realized they were sitting on the floor of the kitchen.    
  
“She wants me to agree to. . . to release Riley from his parental rights – wants to offer me money for it.”  She picked her head up away from his chest as her agitation grew, then she ran out of steam and dropped her head back down onto his chest.  
 _  
What the bloody hell?  Okay, so it wasn’t an ideal situation, but signing away all parental rights?  Giving the girl money so that she would basically go away and there would be no responsibilities for Riley?  No support from his family?  What kind of people were those Finns?  What kind of woman wanted no part of her grandchild?_  
  
He didn’t know what to say.  There weren’t really any words he could use to convey the anger and disappointment he felt on her behalf.  What could he say?  Will heard her hiccuped breathing and he realized he was completely and totally at a loss.  He had no clue what to do for her other than just hold her and let her cry.  
  
So he did.  
  
  
**************************************************************  
  
  
They were quiet for a very long time, Buffy’s tears long dried up.  The occasional sound of a car passing or a dog barking seemed so far away, nothing penetrating the bubble they occupied.    
  
Buffy had to pee and her belly was cramping from hunger.  She had no idea how long they’d been sitting on the floor of her mother’s kitchen.  She was trying to figure out how to tell him she was really hungry when her belly growled loudly.  
  
A giggle escaped her and he shifted a bit.  Buffy got to her feet, looked at him sitting there and shyly asked him, “Have you eaten dinner?”  
  
“No.  Was about to get take out but I called here first.”  He rubbed a hand over his face, hiding his expression from her.  It was just hitting him now how incredibly stupid his actions  had been.  He was alone with one of his students, in her home.  The fact that she was pregnant was secondary.  He could be in a world of trouble if anyone were to find out.  “I should go.  You’re all right, yeah?”  
  
“Um.”  Buffy looked away from him, about to speak when the need to relieve herself became imperative.  Running for the bathroom, she called out over her shoulder, “Don’t leave!  Please?!”  
  
He couldn’t answer her.  The panic on her face was pretty clear and his worry and concern for her warred with his need to protect himself.  _Bit late for worrying ‘bout that now.  Damage is already done.  Can’t get worse than what it already is.  Might was well . . ._  
  
Buffy was back, chattering at him in her nervousness.  “My mom left lots of food, she always does.  There’s some lasagna that she made last night.  Please stay?”  
  
That last had slipped out in a more desperate tone than she wanted to use with him.  She needed the company and if she were honest about it, she wanted him to stay, wanted to be near him.  
  
Will got to his feet, all set to tell her _no, he couldn’t stay_ ; had his mouth open and was more surprised than she was when he said, “Sounds great.  Is there anything you want me to do?”  
  
“Um no.   Everything just has to go in the oven to get hot.  Mom even left me bread.”  She leaned into the refrigerator which Will missed and brought out a fairly large tray of lasagna.  “Have you ever had this?  Do English people eat the same foods we do?”  
  
Opening the oven for her he said, “Almost.  Different brands, different names for similar things, but it’s pretty close.”  
  
“Do you miss England?”  _Go Buffy, get him talking and keep him occupied, he won’t worry about leaving._  
  
“Sometimes.  Don’t miss the weather.”  He moved out of her way, sitting at the opposite side of the counter, his eyes following her movements as she put together a salad.  
  
“Is it always cold and rainy like the movies show?”  She moved about the kitchen fairly competently, though he could sense her anxiety.  
  
“No.”  He laughed and she liked the sound of that.  “Not always, but it’s nothing like Southern California.”  He was beginning to guess there was more to this conversation, more she wanted to bring up anyway, so he waited her out.  
  
“When did you come here?”  Buffy was chopping carrots now, occasionally popping one into her mouth.  
  
“Mum died when I was in my second year of university.  And well, I was living at the school.  Giles was here already so I packed up everything she owned and shipped it to him for safekeeping.”  He paused, grabbed a carrot stick for himself then munched on it for a while.  
  
“How old were you?”  Finished with the carrots, Buffy moved onto cucumbers.  
  
“Seventeen, almost eighteen.  Did my leaving certs at sixteen and went straight to university.”  He gestured with the remains of the carrot stick.  
  
 _Oh.  Just great Buffy.  First Xander and his mother and now Mr. Stevenson and his.  Maybe you should not talk to guys at all._   The false good mood she’d tried to force herself into started to shatter and Buffy wiped away a few tears.  Thing was, she really wasn’t sure who she was really crying for.  “I’m sorry.”  
  
Will caught her trying to hide her tears and reaching for her hand, said, “Thanks, pet.  But it’s okay.  Mum. . . she wasn’t really happy after m’father died. I knew that.”  And just like that the tears were back.  _Good job there, mate.  Not supposed to make the chit cry again._  
  
“Hey.  Shhhhhsshhh.  Stop that.”  Will was on his feet and around the island before Buffy could put down the potato peeler and cucumber.  Taking them away from her, Will pulled her into his arms for the third time that day.  _Bloke could get used to this.  
_  
She settled into his arms, letting him hold her again.  _Okay.  Buffy, this is just. . . stop crying._ “I’m sorry.  I never cry like this.  This is so not me.”  
  
“Probably right.  Hormones are doing a number on you, that’s all.  No worries.”  Will kissed the top of her head, then let her go.  “Tell you what.  Let me finish this and you get the table ready.”  
  
She wiped her eyes, moving away from him, then off into the dining room to get it ready.   “Okay.”  
  
  
***************************************************************  
  
  
She’d put candles on the table.    
  
Will wanted so badly for this to be what she sort of innocently hoped it was, but he couldn’t allow either of them the luxury.  Buffy was only seventeen and one of his students.  He could be fired just on the hint of impropriety alone.  He’d never be able to work in this country again.  On the other hand, he didn’t have it in him to be the cause of any more pain for her.  Couldn’t tell her it was wrong.  
  
Because most of him wanted it.  He didn’t know if this was just an infatuation for her, something good she could focus on while the rest of her life fell apart.  For him, it wasn’t infatuation.  He’d been struck by her the moment she’d walked into his class.  But his mind hadn’t let it be anything more than admiration for her looks, her wit and her ability to breeze her way through, until that night.  
  
That night had changed everything.  Some connection between them had sparked to life and flared brighter and burned stronger every single time he saw her.  Was it just because she was so lost and alone and he saw in her what his mother had gone through?  And even though he couldn’t have saved his mother he could save her?  
  
William didn’t know.  Almost didn’t want to delve deeper into his reasons – into what it was that drew him to her.  
  
William didn’t care anymore about why.  He could worry about why later.  Right now he was going to sit down and eat dinner with the girl he was beginning to suspect he loved.  
  
And he did just that.    
  
They talked about everything, his mum, her family, poets, people they knew and liked, and at no point did Will think he was talking to a girl who was ten years younger.  
  
  
***************************************************************  
  
  
She was setting the table, putting down a tablecloth and getting the silverware and plates out, when she spied the candles.  On a partial whim, Buffy put them on the table, then lit them.  It was silly, she knew that, but a big part of her wanted to pretend this was real.  That she was his and they were together.  
  
He’d stopped in the doorway, the hot pan of lasagna in his hands while his eyes took in the table setting and her.  She’d been afraid he was going to tell her not to do this, that it was wrong, but he hadn’t said anything.  He’d just kind of shook himself and walked to the table.  
  
Buffy watched him while they talked over dinner, studying the way he moved, the sparkle in his eyes when he got on a subject he was passionate about, or the glitter of sadness when he talked about his mother.  Saw too, the sympathy when she talked about her parents, about how her father just abandoned them  – and his – he had this tilt to his head when he was just watching her that was just. . . _god it was adorable and sexy_ and Buffy felt like she was flying because his attention was focused solely on her.    
  
She wondered what he was thinking when he did that, because it drove her to distraction, that and. . . his eyes.  They changed blues, going from intense and dark to clear and bright depending on his moods.  
  
It was crazy, him being in her house, having dinner with her, but she didn’t care.  This was worth all the rest of the craziness that was going on, because this felt good.  
  
She wanted this to be real.  Wanted it in a way she’d never wanted anything else.  _Does he know?  Can he tell that it’s more than a crush?  Does he get that?_  
  
  
****************************************************************  
  
Will wasn’t sure what they were talking about anymore, he was content just to watch her, to listen to the soft sound of her voice, the flit of her tiny hands as she emphasized some point she was making; the glow of the candlelight on her warm golden skin.  
  
Her eyes sparkled; glittering like emeralds surrounded by wisps of black lashes; they called to him, drawing him in, letting him drown in their depths.  
  
His hands itched to touch her, so instead he fidgeted, moving from one object to the next on the table.  Time had ceased passing, crawling to a stop while he catalogued every single nuance of hers, studying her intently.  
  
They’d been talking forever when a yawn escaped her and Will knew it was his cue to leave, because he suddenly knew if he didn’t go soon, he wasn’t going to until morning.  
  
“C’mon.  Let’s clean up and then you can lock up after I go.”  
  
Buffy’s face fell and Will cursed his insensitivity.  He didn’t want her sad. . . it was much better when she smiled.  Scrambling his brain for a way to lighten the mood again, Will quipped, “”M old, sunshine, need m’beauty sleep.”  
  
“Sheyah.  Coz you aren’t already gorgeous.”  Buffy muttered under her breath as she got to her feet, but there was a smile on her face and it warmed his heart.  
  
“And how d’you think I got this way?”  He laughed when she tossed a balled up napkin at him.    
  
They made short work of the clean-up, working together like they’d been doing it for years, and when the last of the dishes was dried and put away, Buffy was yawning widely.  
  
“Sorry.  Buffy turns into a pumpkin earlier these days.”  They were standing next to each other, at the kitchen counter, Buffy leaning heavily onto it.  
  
“It’s all right, kitten.  I understand.”  Will watched her, part of him very reluctant to leave her alone.  “You going to be okay by yourself?”  
  
“Yeah.  There’s an alarm I have to set and I’ve got mom’s numbers programmed into the phone.”  Buffy wouldn’t look up at him, afraid he would see the wish in her eyes.  She didn’t want him to leave.  
  
“‘S’not what I meant.”  His voice dropped, sending shivers down her back.  He’d moved closer and Buffy swore she could feel his breath on her neck.  
  
“I know.”  She whispered softly.  “I’ll be okay, I guess.”  She stole a glance up at him and froze under the intensity of his gaze.  
  
He wrote something down a napkin, handing it to her.  “This is my cell number.  I’ll leave  it on.  If you need me. . .”   His voice drifted off, his eyes focusing on her.  God he wanted to kiss her.  
  
“Thanks, Will.  For everything.  For tonight.”  Buffy stood straight, hoping he couldn’t see the need for him in her eyes.  
  
“Buffy.”  It was just her name except the way he said it made it almost a prayer.  
  
She looked up at him then, her heart in her eyes and he was lost.  His hand reached out, tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear and then his thumb was brushing across her soft cheek, ghosting over her lips.  
  
Buffy couldn’t move.  Couldn’t breathe.  Her heart was pounding so hard in her chest it felt like thunder.  Every hair on her body stood up, every nerve sang at his touch.  His eyes were . . .  She wanted his kiss. . . wanted him to never stop touching her.  
  
His hand fell away from her face and she wanted to weep at the loss of contact.  She must have made some noise because he was rumbling something low in his chest but Buffy didn’t catch the words because he’d stepped closer, his chest nearly touching her and she  looked up at him with a pout and Will groaned inwardly and caved.  His lips grazed hers and then she was in his arms, his tongue mating with hers, his hands holding her close, his erection hard and pulsing between them.    
  
They kissed forever and for mere seconds.  Her arms curled around his head, his around her hips.  He stepped closer, forcing her back against the counter, his leg between hers.  Will lifted her up, his mouth never leaving hers, setting her on the counter, stepping between her legs.  Alarm bells were going off in his brain but Will refused to listen.  He didn’t want to stop.  This was so bloody. . . the bells were going off, chiming inside his head, and he realized as he came up for air that it wasn’t bells – the phone was ringing.  
  
“Buffy, kitten, the phone. . . . “ Her passion glazed eyes finally focused when her mother’s voice sounded on the answering machine.    
  
“Oh.”  
  
“Buffy.  Look at me.”  Will couldn’t.   He wasn’t going to hurt her by saying this was a mistake, but he couldn’t let it go unremarked either.  She surprised him though, beating him to the punch.  
  
“Will?  I don’t want to ruin your life too.  You should go.”  Pausing for a second, she looked away, unable to let him see the pain.  “Before we end up doing something stupid.”    
  
 _Ruin his life?  What the hell had been done to this girl?  What had everyone been saying to her to make her think that she could ruin anyone’s life?_   He lifted her chin, saying, “Wouldn’t ruin my life, kitten.  Not at all.”  He kissed her forehead as he walked to the door, saying, “Lock up.”  
  
And then he was gone.  
  
Buffy stared at the door for long minutes, completely uncertain about what had just happened.  Coming back to herself with a start, Buffy locked up the house and drifted up the stairs to her bed, thoughts of him swirling around inside her head.  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
Her scent was all over him, tears mixed with vanilla, drowning him in its intensity.  Will stood outside her house, watching as the lights slowly went out, waiting until the last one – no doubt her bedroom, stayed on for long minutes.  Leaning against his car, he deliberately pushed aside any thought of consequences or fall-out.    He didn’t want to think about anything but her.  The feel of her, the smell of her. . . everything about her.  Will wanted to pretend for just a little bit longer that what they were doing wasn’t wrong. . . because it felt so damned right.    
  
The light went out and still he didn’t leave, his eyes staring up at her window, his mind blank.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know, sometimes the characters sort of take over a story and despite the writer’s intentions about plot and timing and, well, everything, the characters dictate what happens. This is sort of what’s going on here. The title is from a song by Irish artist Frances Black (who is part of the Black Family and the younger sister of the more famous Mary – they pretty much sing traditional Irish music) and although the song is more about a love that’s dying, I thought the song title fit this chapter best. It’s from her album of the same name.


	12. Hanging by a moment

_**Twelfth.  Hanging by a moment  
  
I'm living for the only thing I know  
I'm running and not quite sure where to go  
and I don't know what I'm diving into  
just hanging by a moment here with you  
    Lifehouse, Hanging by a moment  
  
Oh, why you look so sad?   
tears are in your eyes   
come on and come to me now   
don’t be ashamed to cry   
let me see you through   
‘Cause I’ve seen the dark side too   
when the night falls on you   
you don’t know what to do   
nothing you confess  
could make me love you less   
    Pretenders, I’ll stand by you, from the album Last of the Independents**_  
  
  
  
“What in hell were you thinking?”  Giles looked at his nephew, disturbed by the implications of what his temper had wrought.    
  
Will sighed heavily, “Actually wasn’t thinking at that moment.”  He paced around the office, unwilling to lock eyes with the older man.  “Just reacted.”  
  
“Will, that was quite possibly one of the stupidest things you’ve done in a very long time.”  Giles watched the other man pace, his hands folded on the desk in front of him.  “You’re lucky, so far, that Finn doesn’t exactly remember what happened.  As it stands, only Xander Harris mentioned it and he was more impressed than worried.”  
  
Finally looking up at the other man, Will stared at him, unsure of what he was getting at.  “What do you mean, only Harris mentioned it?”  
  
“Harris was the only one of the students that mentioned what you’d done.  Finn never said a word and the girls, apparently, never saw it.  None of the other students mentioned it either.”  Giles stared at him over his lenses.  “And Harris’ reaction was bordering on awe rather than upset.  Rather disturbing.”  
  
Will suppressed a grin, knowing that it wouldn’t go over well with either the administrator or the uncle, but it was a near thing.  Harris was a bit of all right, when he wasn’t acting like a total git.  “Didn’t really hit the boy anyway.  Just kind of lifted my fist and the boy ran into it.”  
  
Giles raised an eyebrow, knowing that Will was playing with semantics and coloring it to make it all better, thereby absolving him of his actions.  “You do realize that explanation won’t work if Finn decides to complain.”  
  
Blowing out a deep breath, Will faced the possibility that Finn could cause him a real problem.  “Yeah.”  He paused, different scenarios running through his mind, disciplinary procedures that Rupert might be forced to employ.  “Yeah, I know.  It wasn’t a smart move.”  Will moved to sit against Rupert’s desk, his head bent in contrition.  “Temper got the best of me.”  
  
“I thought you had gotten that under control.  It’s been a long time since you’ve done something this stupid.”  Giles wasn’t going to let this go, because if he did, and Finn complained, then his neck would be on the line also.  “You do realize I’m going to have to do something about this.”  
  
Shoving his hand into his pockets, Will kicked a foot back against the desk, looking for all the world like a contrite five-year old.  “Yeah.  What’ve you decided?”  
  
He really didn’t want to do this, but Will’s actions and the looming threat of a possible complaint from the Finns had forced his hand.  “There’s an official reprimand in your personnel file on the way you handled the situation.  It’s rather vague in the whys and wherefores, but it is there.’  
  
“So you didn’t mention Finn running into my fist?”  Will fought the small grin that was threatening to break through his features.    
  
“No.  I didn’t mention it.  Just that your intervention in the altercation between the two boys could have been handled better.”  
  
“Thanks.   ‘Preciate the cover-up on my behalf.”  Will brushed his fingers through his hair, loosening the curls further, his eyes filled with concern.  “Are we done here?”  
  
“Yes, Will.  Please try and remember you aren’t one of the students, would you?  And for the love of god, stay away from Finn.”  
  
  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
  
She wasn’t in class all week.  He’d checked with the attendance office on Tuesday and had been told she hadn’t been in any of her classes.  That night he’d driven past her house, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.  
  
Wednesday night he walked past on his way to and from open mic at the Espresso, despite the fact it was out of his way.  
  
Thursday’s arrival had him thinking about the possibility that he was stalking her when he walked by with the dogs.  He was supposed to have dinner with Rupert and Jenny, but he’d begged off, unwilling to be a third wheel.  Besides, he wasn’t all that fond of turkey and he’d let his laundry pile up and yeah, he was making excuses, but Will didn’t want to go.  
  
He was drinking coffee, term papers strewn across his dining room table, stereo cranked to the Smiths so that he and Morrissey could be morose together when his cell phone went off.  Figuring it was his uncle making one last ditch effort to convince him to have dinner with them, Will flipped it open, saying “No ‘m not gonna change m’mind.  Not coming to dinner.”  
  
There was a pause, then a soft female voice said, “I don’t really remember inviting you, and I would’ve but I’m not home this year – maybe next year?”  
  
Will held the phone to his ear, disbelief on his features.  “Buffy?”  
  
“Yeah, it’s me.”  Her voice was very soft and faint.  
  
“Hang on a minute, pet, gotta turn down the tunes.”  Will lowered the volume, then asked, “You okay?”  
  
Silence.  There was a sniffle, then more silence.  He was about to say something when he heard her breath catch and a soft sob broke through.  
  
“What’s wrong?”  
  
She shook her head, trying to force the lie from her throat, but Buffy couldn’t.  “Nothing.”  And with that single word her composure broke and the tears were falling freely.  
  
He waited a beat, knowing what he was about to suggest was wrong, but he had no control over himself where this girl was concerned.  “Where are you?”  
  
“In Los Angeles with my dad.”  Her voice caught on the last word and Will had the sudden impression that she wasn’t telling him everything.  
  
“Where are you?”  He glanced at the clock, it was a little past four and he’d been marking papers and writing for the better part of the day.  He needed a break.  
  
“I’m not sure.”    
  
That admission got his attention.  “What?  What the . .” he stopped, getting his temper under control.  “Buffy, tell me.”  
  
“My dad, he, he threw me out after I told him.  He . . . he said I was a stupid, selfish little girl who  – who. . . who only thought about herself.”  Her hiccups were loud, countered by the softness of her spoken words.  
  
 _What the fuck?  What kind of father says that to his daughter?_ Will didn’t say anything, holding onto his temper by bare threads.  
  
“Where’s your mum?”  Even as he asked, he knew she wasn’t in Sunnydale, probably spending the day with her family.  
  
“At my aunt Darlene’s in Chicago.”  Buffy sniffled, then said, “Hang on a minute.”  
  
The noise of her inelegantly blowing her nose almost made him smile.  There was no other background noise and that bothered him, so when she got back on the phone, Will didn’t waste any time.  “Where are you?”  
  
“Not far from my dad’s place – outside the mall.”  
  
Will was putting on his jacket, grabbing his keys from another jacket and was halfway out the door when he thought to ask, “Have you called anyone else?”  
  
“No.  I thought about calling my mom but she’s . . there’s nothing she can do to help me.  Besides there is no one else. . . I just need someone to talk to until I can, you know, get enough courage to go back there.”  
  
“No.”  Will didn’t know what prompted him, but he said, “You stay put.  I’ll come get you.”  
  
“Don’t be crazy.  I’m like two hours away.”  
  
“Buffy?”  He paused, waiting until he had her full attention.  “When did your father toss you out?”  
  
She hesitated so long he was afraid she’d disconnected.  Instead she sniffled again and whispered very softly, “Last night.”  
  
 _Oh that fuckin’ tears it._   “Don’t you leave that spot.  ‘M on my way.  Be there before six.”  He was already pulling out of his driveway, his beloved DeSoto purring under her hood, man and machine anxious to be on the road.  
  
She was arguing with him, but Will just kept repeating, “Too late, ‘m already out the door,”  until she quieted down.  
  
Buffy took a deep breath, then whispered very quietly, “Thanks, Will.  I can’t. . . just. . thanks.”  
  
“No problem, kitten, just sit tight and wait for me, yeah?”  
  
“Okay.  See you in a little while.”  She started to disconnect the call, but his voice stopped her.    
  
“Sweetheart.  Don’t cry.  I’ll be there.”  
  
“Kay.”  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
 _Why did I call him?  
  
Because you’re scared.  And no one else cares._  Buffy clutched her cell phone tight, her knuckles white from the effort.  She was tired, too tired to close her eyes.  Too afraid.  Too hurt.  
  
Her father’s harsh words and even harsher tones washed over her again, for the umpteenth time.  “Brat.  Always thinking of yourself.  No respect for me, for anything.  Useless.  You are going to end up in a trailer park or on welfare, with no education, a drain on me.  I’m not supporting this.”  And the worst?  She wasn’t sure if it was him saying “Your mother should have had an abortion” or “I’m taking you Friday morning to a clinic whether you like it or not.”  
  
Buffy had lost it then, screaming at him, and he just told her since she had no respect for him and his wishes she had to go.  And when she’d asked how she was supposed to get back home he’d said, “I don’t know.  Don’t care.  I don’t have a daughter.”  
  
Buffy had gone.  
  
With forty-two dollars and her cell phone.  No clothes, except what she’d been wearing, which were now really grungy.  For the first couple of hours she’d cried and then tried to find a way back to Sunnydale.  
  
There were no trains between Los Angeles and Sunnydale.  Cabs were way to expensive and they wanted half up front for such a long trip.  The buses were, believe it or not, also more money than she had.  
  
Buffy had gone back to her father’s then, not knowing what else to do.  She’d climbed the fence and broken one of the windows in the garage and slept on the cold cement floor.  
  
At least she knew it was safe.  But she’d panicked when her father had seen the broken window and called the cops.  She slipped away while his back was turned, this time really afraid.  
  
And that was how she ended up in the mall, scared and alone, but even that refuge wasn’t going to last.  The mall had closed at one o’clock and Buffy had no where else to go.  Her composure had slipped completely when she watched a heavily pregnant cleaning woman who looked no older than herself, leave the mall with her husband or boyfriend at her side.  
  
Her tears must’ve caught the attention of the couple because they stopped and the girl walked toward her.  
  
“¿Pobrecita, que paso?”  When Buffy didn’t answer, the girl asked, “What’s wrong?”  
  
“Nothing.”  Shaking her head Buffy refused to look at the other girl.  
  
“You got nowhere to go?  No family?”  Settling her pregnant bulk on the bench beside her, the girl patted her shoulder.  “No one you can call?”  
  
That’s when his name popped into her head, his words last week registering.  She’d programmed his number into her address book, despite feeling crazy for doing it, but now she was glad she had.  
  
Wiping her eyes on the tissue the other girl had handed her, Buffy said, “I do.  Have someone. . . who. . yeah.”  
  
“Good, you call.  He’ll come.”  Patting her arm one last time, the other girl slowly got to her feet.  “You be okay now?”  
  
“Yeah.  Thanks.”  Buffy smiled up at the girl shyly, gratitude clear in her eyes.  
  
Nodding her acceptance of Buffy’s words, the Latina walked away.  
  
That’s when Buffy had called him.  
  
Now, nearly an hour later, she was no closer to safety, but strangely she was feeling better.  Between the kindness of a complete stranger and Will’s quiet fury on her behalf, Buffy was okay.  _Or that could be just because I’m so beyond tears and I’m too scared out of my mind to cry.  
  
I’m so tired.  I just wanna sleep.  In my own bed.  And I’m so throwing these clothes out when I get home.  
  
_  
**********************************************************************  
  
  
He knew he was driving to fast, knew it and didn’t care in the slightest.  What kind of father disowns his only child – and throws her out of his house, uncaring of that child’s circumstances.  _What kind of man turns his back on his own flesh and blood?  
_  
Maybe it was because he only had his uncle, that all of his other family was gone save cousins and a few aunts, that Will figured family was worth preserving at any cost.  He’d do anything to have more time with his mother – would have sold his soul to keep her with him – but he hadn’t been able to save her.  
  
Will didn’t understand what kind of man threw away his family with both hands.  He didn’t get it.  Switching lanes, Will narrowly missed colliding with a speeding Ferrari and shot the driver a dirty look as he sped past.  Thankfully, it wasn’t a normal workday, wasn’t even a normal weekend.  It was Thanksgiving and there were only a precious few drivers on the road, making his life much easier.   
  
Checking his cell phone for the time, Will didn’t see the Ferrari cut him off until it was almost too late.  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
It was just after five when her phone rang, waking her up from the sleep she’d sworn she wasn’t going to allow herself to get.  
  
Buffy jerked awake, the noise from the phone scaring her.  “Hello?”  
  
“Buffy?  Where are you?”  Joyce’s voice was laced with concern and anger.  
  
“Waiting for a ride back home.”  Awake now, Buffy’s eyes darted around the deserted parking lot, getting more nervous by the second.  
  
Joyce was silent for a moment, then, “I called your father’s to talk to you and he told me what happened.  I’m so sorry, sweetheart.  I never would have left you there if I’d thought for one second.”  
  
Buffy cut her off before her mother could continue.  She really didn’t want to hear it – this was so typical of the relationship between them.  One of her parents would say something cruel and heartless and then the other would apologize and materially make it up to her.  “I know.”    
  
Both women were silent, uncertainty filling the awkward space.  “He’s going to send your stuff back.”  
  
“Okay.”  There was more Buffy wanted to say and more that she wanted to hear, but Joyce remained silent.  “I won’t be home until next Wednesday.  I left money in your drawer.”  
  
“Yeah.”  Buffy heard the sound of breaking glass and got scared.”Look, Mom, I gotta go.  I’ll call you when I get home, okay?”  
  
“Sure, sweetheart.  I love you.”  Buffy hesitated, afraid the crying was about to start all over again, but gained control.  “Yeah.  Love you too.”  
  
Staring out into the growing darkness, Buffy made a promise to the baby in her belly.  _No matter what happens, baby, you come first.  Not gonna leave you alone for days.  Gonna take care of you always._  
  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
  
Will wrestled the DeSoto around the Ferrari, almost scraping the divider.  The heavier car fish-tailed, despite the fact the ground wasn’t wet and he barely controlled the car, keeping it away from hitting either the Ferrari or the divider.  
  
The Ferrari did spin out of control, but it was already behind him and Will watched out of his rear view mirror as the Ferrari made contact with the wall.  _Ouch.  Asshole.  
_  
He nearly pulled over, but when the driver got out of the vehicle, Will shook his head and kept going.  
  
Quarter past five and he was hitting the outskirts of Los Angeles; a trip that normally took a minimum of two hours had been accomplished in just over an hour.  Another fifteen or so minutes and she’d be safe.  
  
He hit last number on his phone and cursed when it went right to voice-mail.  Will drove on, his eyes constantly watching for cops, but it seemed like everyone was home today, because there were even less people on the road in Los Angeles than there were on the highway.  Sighing in frustration, Will tried the phone again.  
  
She answered on the second ring.  
  
His eyes closed briefly in gratitude that she was still safe as her voice washed over him.  “Hello?”  
  
“Lo, kitten.  ‘M almost there.”  Buffy’s eyes closed, relieved to hear his strong low voice in her ear.  
  
“Hey.  How far away are you?”  She had a death grip on the phone, and she was wedged into a dimly lit corner of the mall, the building solid behind her and a small stand of shrubs hiding her from the parking lot.  
  
“Only ‘bout ten minutes away.  Hitting the exit now.  Should be there soon.”  His tones were strong, steady and she could almost feel his presence coming closer.  
  
“Okay, that’s good.”  That’s when he heard the fear in her voice.  
  
“Wha’s wrong?  You okay?”  He’d gotten caught at two successive stop lights and he was thinking about blowing the second one when she spoke.  
  
“I guess.  I’m cold and tired. . . and” she broke off when a noise started her and when she didn’t speak, he gunned the engine and roared through the light.  
  
“Hang on, kitten, I’m pulling into the lot any second.  Where are you?”  His eyes scanned the deserted parking lot, looking for her.  
  
“By the movie theatre.”  He cursed under his breath, then made a quick U-turn in the parking lot and drove around to the other side of the large mall.  “All right.  Where?  Don’t see you.”  
  
“Hang on.”  She stood up and emerged from behind a couple of low bushes.  “I’m over here.”  
  
He rolled to a stop, watching her step around the shrubs and approach the car.  Will could see the fear recede as she caught a glimpse of his face.  
  
Buffy slid into the passenger seat and leaned back against the leather.  Her eyes dropped closed and she whispered “Thanks so much for this. . . I . . this . . thanks.”  
  
“Any time, kitten.”  He put the car into gear and drove off.  
  
  
                


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from the song by Lifehouse from the album No Name Face.


	13. Sugar taste

_**Thirteenth.   Sugar taste  
  
You sugar taste   
Sweetness doesn't often touch my face   
Stay if you please   
You may not be here when I leave  
    Alice in Chains  
  
Fly to the rescue, Pan.   
I'll shoot you . . right through your noble intentions.   
    Captain Hook, Peter Pan (2003)  
  
I’m Luke Skywalker, I’m here to rescue you.  
    Star Wars, Episode IV**_  
  
  
  
She fell asleep ten minutes into the drive.  
  
He’d been watching her, out of the corner of his eye, making a mental wager with himself over how long it would be.  Will knew she was exhausted, emotionally wrought, and spent from a night and most of a day on her own, so it was just a matter of time before she gave into the exhaustion and let sleep claim her.  
  
Will smiled as she settled in, letting her head rest between the window and the seat.  _Trust.  That’s what that is.  She trusted me to come get her an’ now she’s safe she can sleep._  
  
There was the start of traffic around Los Angeles and he left off his contemplation of Buffy and concentrated instead on the road.  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
Just past the halfway point between Los Angeles and Sunnydale, Will decided to pull over and get something to eat.  He needed to get gas for the car anyway and he realized that he was hungry.  
  
The minute he pulled into the truck stop, Buffy stretched and shifted, slowly coming awake.  Smiling shyly at him, she asked “How close are we?”  
  
“Jus’ about halfway.”  He paused for a moment, then angled the car toward the parking area.  “Hungry?”  
  
“Yeah.  A little.”  She was a lot hungry but she wouldn’t dream of admitting that to him.  “Lemme pay for gas or something.”  
  
“No.”  His tone brooked no argument, though she tried anyway.  
  
“No?  How about half?”  She got out of the car, tossing the words over her shoulder as she made her way toward the building.  
  
Will caught up with her, turning her to face him.  “No.  My choice, not takin’ your money.”  
  
 “Fine.”  She snapped unintentionally at him, then relented.  She hadn’t meant it to sound so . . mean and final, so she softened her tones a bit, “Yeah.  Sorry.  Didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”  
  
“Right then.  D’you fancy chicken or somethin’ else?”  Buffy looked at the sparsely populated fast food restaurants and shrugged.  “Dunno.  Meet you back here in ten minutes, okay?”  
  
  
      
********************************************************************  
  
  
When she got back from the bathroom, Will wasn’t anywhere to be found.  She looked around, slightly panicked, then spied his blond head standing at one of the counters, obviously reading what passed for a menu.  
  
“Will?”  He whirled around, his bright smile blinding her.  
  
“Hey.  All right then?”  He was watching her closely, gauging how tired she looked.  “Sure you’re okay?”  
  
“Yeah.  I’m just really tired.”  Buffy shrugged, her eyes avoiding his.  She swayed a bit and he was at her side in seconds.  
  
“C’mon, kitten, sit down before you fall.”  He guided her over to one of the tables.  “You need to eat.  Fancy _anything_ in particular?”  
  
Buffy thought about it for a moment.  “Not really.  What are you thinking of getting?”  
  
Will shook his head.  “Think I might get a couple of burgers.”  Buffy’s eyes lit up and he smiled.  “Burgers it is.”  
  
      
*******************************************************************  
  
She managed to stay awake the rest of the trip back to Sunnydale, but neither one of them was inclined to engage in idle chatter, at least then.  
  
He pulled up in front of her house and was reluctant to let her go.  No one was home, she’d be all by herself and he didn’t think it was a good thing.  But he couldn’t tell her that.  He  had no right to say anything.  
  
Buffy sat there, frozen in shock.  _Oh god. . how do I?  I don’t have keys. . . and Willow’s not home until Saturday and Xander’s got an extra set but I didn’t see anyone home when we passed his house and . . . breathe Buffy, breathe._  
  
For the first time since he’d known her, Buffy just sat still, fear keeping her silent.  Will was beginning to get really worried when she finally moved, but when a hysterical giggle escaped from her mouth, he got very worried.  
  
“I don’t have keys.  I left them at my dad’s.”  She was afraid to look at him.  “Willow and Xander have spare sets, but . . . neither of them are gonna be home until tomorrow.”  
  
Will stared at her profile for a second, making a quick decision. He put the car in gear and pulled away from the curb, without saying a word.  He was afraid she would object and he didn’t want to have to argue his position with her, not while he was driving and not while he knew, that while this was an incredibly stupid and potentially dangerous decision,  nevertheless it was an inevitable one.  He wanted her to stay with him.  Hell, he wanted her however he could get her but the facts were . . . she was only seventeen.  And his student.  And if they were caught. . . Will refused to think about it.  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
The dogs were barking when he opened the door, ushering Buffy inside his home.  Well, Kennedy was barking and Clem was just hanging back waiting for him to acknowledge the dog’s presence.  
  
Buffy stepped into the hallway, then followed Will as he walked directly into his kitchen.  “All right, ya beasties.  I’ll feed ya now.”  
  
The dogs quieted after he filled their bowls, but every time Buffy moved the smaller dog growled at her.  Will yelled at the dog, then as he was getting a beer from the fridge, he spoke.  “You can sleep in my room, I’ll take the couch.  You wanna shower?”  
  
Buffy hesitated, looking anywhere but at him.  “The couch is fine for me and I don’t have anything to wear, but I’d love a shower.”  
  
“I’ll get you a tee shirt an’ some shorts.  We’ll throw your stuff in the wash, be fine for the morning.”    
  
“Yeah, okay.”  She hesitated a moment longer, looking around at her surroundings.  His kitchen was really nice, dark green painted walls with sugar brown cabinets and crisp white appliances.  Not exactly what she expected, not at all. . . the room was warm and inviting.  Watching her look around, Will was struck by how at home she looked or rather, how much he wanted her to be at home.  She looked around closer, then realized he was looking at her.  A blush bloomed across her features and Buffy ducked her heard, hiding from his gaze.  
  
“So where’s the bathroom. . and um, clothes?”    
  
A grin stole across his features. _She’s so bloody adorable._ “Right, up the stairs and second door on the right.”  He finished the beer and motioned her toward the stairs.  “I’ll get the stuff.”  
  
She waited at the bathroom door while he continued down the hallway.  Buffy leaned against the wall, her eyes crossing with fatigue.  It had been about this time last night when she and her father had started fighting.  
  
Everything was a jumble after that – the screaming, the running, the fear – and she barely had anything to eat and she was tired and hungry again.  And she felt really grungy and dirty.  
  
Will emerged from his bedroom to find her standing against the wall, nearly asleep on her feet.  Dark circles stood out under her equally dark lashes and he could see the fatigue she tried to hide so much when she was awake.  Will didn’t want to disturb her at all, but he knew she wanted to get clean.  Not that she’d said so, although he knew it was bothering her.  
  
Unable to resist, Will drew closer, his eyes on her, drinking in her presence.  She wasn’t just beautiful, she was. . . ethereal at times, and yet he’d seen her earthy and teasing, playful.  His finger ran down her face, barely touching, and he felt the contact down to his toes.  
  
Even wearing day old clothes and tired beyond measure, pregnant with someone else’s child, she was beautiful.  And he wanted her.  
  
Will leaned closer, his shoulder against the wall beside her, just watching her sleep.  His hand cupped around her cheek and she curled into his touch.  Buffy responded to his warmth, murmuring softly into his hand.  
  
Her head fell against his chest and Will settled her in closer.  Buffy’s eyes opened and she looked up at him sleepily.  Nuzzling into his chest, she breathed in his scent.  “Smell nice.  Really.”  
  
He leaned closer to her, wanting to kiss her senseless.  “You too, kitten.”  
  
“Nahuh.”  Buffy made a face.  “No.”  And then the strangest look came over her face and she realized what she was doing.  She squealed a little.  “No.  Ew.  I smell. . . and not good.”  
  
Will sniffed her playfully, wrinkling his nose as he teased her.  “You do smell kind of. . . funny, kitten.”  Buffy’s face fell a bit and he leaned in, his mouth against her ear.  “Smell like something I want.”  
  
Hazel green eyes looked up into his blue ones, searching for the truth of his words.  What she found wasn’t what she expected.  Want was blazing in his bluer than blue eyes, need for her swimming in those depths, humbling her.  
  
Fear rose up in her belly and she couldn’t face him.  What he wanted from her she wasn’t sure she was ready to give – couldn’t give, not yet.  And because she was afraid, Buffy ran.  Blushing furiously, she moved around him and slid into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.   
   
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
She was shaking.  The intensity of his gaze scared her and set butterflies fluttering in her belly.  Washing herself she was lost in her thoughts about what would happen when she emerged from the water.  Maybe he wouldn’t be waiting for her. . . _not sure I don’t want him to be there, god he just looks at me so . . . and I melt.  All I wanna do is let him hold me.  
  
What do you think, baby?  Does he like us?  I want him to like us.  I want him to love us. . _. Buffy ducked her head under the steaming water, letting her fears wash down the drain with the soap.  
  
 _Just gonna see where this . . . I’m not going to . . ._ Stepping out of the shower, Buffy dried off, holding up his shirt to her face, inhaling deeply.  _Oh. . . this smells like him.  I’m gonna smell him all around me._  
  
She slipped the tee shirt on, then looked at the shorts he’d given her.  Holding them up, she laughed.  There was no way she could wear them, they weren’t going to stay up around her waist.  Slipping them on anyway, Buffy bunched them up in one hand and left the bathroom, her dirty clothes balled up in her other hand.  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
Will stood outside the bathroom listening to the sound of the shower, imagining her under the water.  _Soft skin, soapy and slick, sleek skin, wet. . ._ Will shook  the images from his head.  
  
He couldn’t stand here listening to the water, imaging her. . . wanting to join her.  Will moved away from the wall, making his way through the house to his living room.  
  
Moving to the other room didn’t help all that much, the images of her in his shower, _running water washing over her naked body . . ._ Will tried forcing thoughts of her from his mind, pushing the images away.  
  
He was doing his best, except all he could really think of was her, even as he tried focusing on the movie.  
  
Nearly an hour later, Will was beginning to worry that perhaps she’d slipped out and run away when the water finally shut off.  Another ten minutes went by before he heard the click of the bathroom door.  
  
“Will?”  Buffy’s voice sounded in the hallway and rooms, as she slowly made her way through the house.    
  
 _What would you give, mate, to have this be real?  To have her here all the time?_   “In here.”  
  
She wandered into his living room, her eyes wide at the decor.  One wall was swallowed up completely by a television and stereo system, one of the other walls was covered in books.  The room was decidedly masculine, dark walls and soft black leather couches, which was only softened by the window seat with bright jewel-toned cushions and pillows.  Buffy looked around, awed at how comfortable the room felt.  “Wow.”  
  
He looked at her noting a slight smile on her features.  “This is such a great room.  All of them. . . even the bathroom.”    
  
Her voice trailed off as he got to his feet.  “Glad you like it.”  And he was.  
  
“Did you do this?”  She was curious, wondering who had picked out all the colors and done the decorating.    
  
He looked sheepish for a moment.  “Did most of it myself, had help from an old friend.”  Will looked around, wondering how much input Drusilla had really had.  “She did help a bit.”   
  
Buffy’s face fell.  “Oh.”  
  
Will caught her expression and the sad tone and he felt compelled to explain.  “Drusilla,  we’ve been friends f’rever and we once tried the dating thing but, ah, she was really in love with someone else.  They’re married.  Got two little girls.”  
  
She was adorable when she blushed, which was what she was doing now.  “Oh. . . that’s nice.”  
  
“Yeah.”  Will watched her fidget again, then realized she had her dirty clothes bunched up in a ball.  “Hand ‘em over pet.  I’ll get them in the wash.”  Taking them from her, Will motioned toward the television.  “Change it if you like, an’ there’s stuff to pick at.”  
  
 _Stuff?_   Buffy eyed the assortment of things he’d laid out on the coffee table and fought a giggle.  Hot wings, chips, pretzels, some dip, water, cheese – Buffy wondered if he was expecting a party because there was way more food here than she could eat.  
  
Grabbing the remote, she flipped through the channels and nibbled on some cheese while she waited for him to come back.  
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
He was standing in front of his washing machine, staring down at the clothes in his hands, when it struck him for the first time that she was here, in his house, wearing his clothes.  What that really meant.  If anyone were to find out, there would be hell to pay – and not just because she was pregnant.  There would be all sorts of inquiries into exactly who the father was, despite the two of them knowing the truth of the matter and he’d more than likely lose his job over this.  If he took a moment to think with his head, he’d get her things washed and send her to a hotel, leave her there for the night and wash his hands of the whole situation.  
  
And yet he couldn’t find that ruthless spot within him; couldn’t break the waif that was upstairs in his living room, scared and alone and skittish.  Everyone else had turned their backs on her, letting her sink without any help of rescue.  Not that he believed she was on a slippery slide into eternal darkness, but she could falter without any one else on her side.  That vision of her father’s?  Where she would end up on the streets or on welfare . . . that was a real possibility, if everyone kept abandoning her.  Her mother appeared on the surface to be supportive, though Will was beginning to think that might just be mere lip-service and not real.    
  
He had no proof otherwise, just his own gut feelings on the situation between mother and daughter.  Buffy hadn’t breathed a word until tonight that her father was even still in the picture.  _And really, with a wanker like that for a father, why the hell would she mention him?_  
  
In the month or so since he’d learned of her pregnancy, her mother had been out of town at least twice, that he knew of.  He had no idea how long her trips were, or where she was, but from the little Buffy spoke about it, this was a fairly common occurrence.  So, how in good conscience could he just drop her off at a hotel?  Will knew he couldn’t, even if he wasn’t interested in the girl.  It just wasn’t in him to not take care of someone.  Hell, it was the reason he’d taken the rotten dog in the first place.  Kennedy was his mother’s – keeping her company while he was gone, and he’d been saddled with the bitch since his mother had died.  Even bringing the dog to the States hadn’t. . . Will shook his head.  The dog was not the problem.    
  
The problem, as he figured it, was the girl sitting on his couch.  The problem was what everyone around her was doing or not doing as the case may be.  The problem was the way he felt about her.  

  
Will looked down at the clothes in his hands and realized he’d been rubbing his fingers all over the lacy edges of her bra.   _Oh yeah, you’ve got it bad, you git.  Holdin’ her dainties while you’re thinkin’ about her.  Tha’s just brilliant.  Wanker._ Throwing the clothes in the water, his ring finger snagged on a leg of her jeans, getting caught in the belt loop, and he stopped moving, his mind focused on her.  Buffy was. . .  She didn’t deserve any of this; none of it, from Riley’s treatment, to his parents saying those things to her, her parents. . .  He’d heard also that she had been removed from the cheerleading squad, which had to hurt a little.  
  
 _Panties._ He had her panties in his hands.  And she was upstairs, wearing his clothes, nothing between his things and her skin.   Will groaned, looking down at the wisp of material in his hands.  It was cotton candy pink with lace around the edges.   His hard-on, which had been controllable just minutes ago, swelled and rose up to press against the cold metal of his zipper.  He should put them in the wash.  He should.  He shouldn’t be holding them up to his face and inhaling her scent . . . and imaging all sorts of other things.   
  
Forcing his hand down Will dropped the scanty material into the wash, watching the soap and water saturate it, dragging it down into the depths.    
  
There was no way in hell he could go back up those stairs and face her, not now, not unless he did some really . . . . he could just hide in the bathroom and take care of it there. . . but he was here, and. . . Will hadn’t been this bad in a very long time.  _Fuck it._   Popping the button on his jeans, he reached in and grasped his hard-on, pumping slowly.  His eyes closed and he imagined her sitting on top of the washing machine, clad in nothing but those pretty pink panties. . . . or in nothing but his tee shirt, or in nothing at all.  His breathing was harsh in the cool air of the basement, the churning of the wash and the clean scent of water and soap redolent in the air. . . and he was still hard.  His hand curled around his erection, pulling and pumping and Will wished that it was her hand, warm and tight around him.    
  
Behind his eyes, Buffy was sitting on the washer, clad in his tee-shirt and those panties, legs spread, lips parted . . . long golden hair.   He imagined her lifting the shirt up, exposing the panties and a pert little breast to his gaze, his hands sliding up her legs.  Pre-cum dripped from his slit, and Will used his thumb to smooth it around his hard length, pretending all the while it was her hand touching him.  Y _eah, baby, c’mon, she slid the candy pink panties down her legs, spreading herself wide for him, her fingers lightly brushing her folds. . . that’s it, baby girl, show me. . . show me everything._ His hips jerked as his hand sped up, his brain blank save for the thought of her and the movement upon his cock.   
  
His balls tightened, his breathing hitched and Will grabbed the first thing he could reach to soak up his spendings. Imaginary Buffy scooted closer to him, her pussy open and exposed to his intense gaze, her fingers thrusting in and out in time to the pumping of his hand.   Soft skin brushed against his cheeks, her scent strong, making his mouth water, his tongue aching to taste her.   Will’s head dropped down as he spurted into the cloth, his eyes barely open.  A low groan burst from his throat when he didn’t recognize the shirt in his . .  He didn’t own anything in that particular shade of pink. . . _oh god.  It was hers._ He’d cum all over her shirt. . . a quavering chuckle escaped from his mouth and Will shook his head in denial of what he’d just done.  
  
 _An’ jus’ how old are you, mate?  Seventeen?  Sure as fuck aren’t twenty-eight years old now. . . git_.  His sigh was deep, his thoughts scattered.  His hands were shaking.  In for a penny. . . glancing down at the soft pink material surrounding his spent cock, Will growled in self-disgust.  _Zero fuckin’ control mate. . . not good at all._ He threw the soiled shirt into the wash anyway, hoping that the soap and water would wash away the evidence of his folly.   
  
Still mentally chastising himself over his actions, Will tucked himself back in, washed his hands in the sink and slowly made his way back upstairs to the living room.  If there was a god, and he had any mercy in him, Buffy would be asleep on the couch; and he could just carry her into his room and walk away.  Or, if that wasn’t an option, that she was wide awake and waiting for him, head over heels in love with him and old enough so that it wouldn’t matter.  _Yeahuh.  Tha’ would be a bloody miracle._  
  
He decided, as he stopped in the doorway to watch her, that god was a sick bastard who took delight in torturing him.  Buffy was curled up on his couch, legs tucked up beneath her, head resting on one arm, eyes half closed with fatigue.  She was gorgeous, everything he wanted all wrapped up in one tiny package, everything he was beginning to suspect he needed.    
  
She sensed his presence and turned to look at him over the back of the couch.  A shy smile crept over her face, lighting her up from within.  He really was starting to not care about the differences, about what could possibly keep them apart.  He wanted her.  Needed her.  Suspected that he loved her.  
  
“Hey.”  He looked . . .  Buffy didn’t know how to describe how he looked; he was quite possibly the best looking man she’d ever seen, hot enough to be a movie star.  He could be a model, with cheekbones and eyes like those, and lips that always looked kissable.  She remembered the first time she’d ever seen him and the reactions of every single other girl in the school.  The number of whisperings and crushes this man engendered was staggering.  Even some of the teachers had been googly-eyed over him.  And he just went about his business as if he didn’t know what kind of effect he had on women of all ages.    
  
The fact that he was staring at her, his eyes heavy-lidded and a lazy grim across those oh-so-kissable lips had her tingling from head to toe.  He’s looking at me like he wants me.  _Oh god. . . the drop-dead sexiest guy I’ve ever seen is looking at me. . ._  
  
Will wondered what she was thinking as she looked at him, her eyes riveted on his lips.  A slow smile widened across her mobile mouth and he wondered if he could someday convince her to wear fire-engine red lipstick and . . those pink panties . . . and heels. . . and Will forced his mind away from that image, his mind yelling at his dick.  _Knock it off now, mate._  
  
Trying to come up with something else to think about, Will focused on the food.  “Did you eat again?”  
  
“Yeah.  I picked.”  Buffy shifted her gaze to the table and did a double take.  All the cheese was gone and half the pretzels.  “Um.  I guess I was still sort hungry.”  
  
Will strolled around the couch and fought a chuckle.  “Guess so.  Want more?”  
  
“Nah.  I’m good.  Wanna watch a movie?”  
  
Obviously she’d caught a second wind.  He couldn’t push her off, didn’t want too.  Buffy shifted on the couch, jumping when Kennedy growled at her, trying to get more comfortable.  
  
“Oi.  Knock it off you ungrateful bitch.”  Will tossed a pillow at the twelve year old grouch, ignoring Buffy’s hiss of disapproval.  He looked at her, saying, “Dog’s a pain in the arse, doesn’t like anyone.  ‘S not you, it’s her.”  
  
“Still shouldn’t be mean to her.”  She whapped him gently on the arm, then squealed a little when he hauled her up on her knees holding her against him.  They were practically nose to nose when he mock growled at her, grumbling a bit, “Don’t mess with me, little girl, ‘m bigger an’ badder than you are.”  
  
She giggled and mock shivered.  “Ohhh I’m sooo scared of the big bad . . . wolf.”  
  
“Careful, little girl, the big bad’ll eat you all up.”  
  
Buffy looked up at him with wide eyes, her breathing erratic and her heart hammering away in her chest.  His words had struck a different chord, no longer just playful and teasing and she felt his hands on her arms, his touch burning into her skin.  
  
Will was staring at her mouth, his words echoing in his head, replaying over and over in a loop.  He had to kiss her – needed to kiss her.  Dipping his head down, Will nibbled on her full lower lip, scoring it with his teeth, then soothing with his tongue.  Buffy’s eyes drifted closed and her lips parted, inviting him in.  
  
At the first touch of her tongue against his, whatever internal battle his conscience may have been waging was lost.  He surrendered at the first sign of engagement.  His hands loosened from around her arms, circling around her.  One hand fisted in her hair, holding her close and the other drifted down to her hip.  
  
Buffy mewled into his mouth, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, fingers diving into the soft curls at his nape.  The too big shorts slid down her legs, pooling around her knees.  She was lost in sensation, reeling from his touch.  
  
His fingers flexed around her hip, bunching up the fabric even as his lips broke away from hers.  “Sweet. . . kitten. . .”  
  
His voice went straight through her, making her knees quiver and her breathing hitch.  Buffy’s thumb ran over a thumping vein in his neck and Will fought his body’s reaction.  Leaning down to kiss her again, Will dragged the shirt up as he cupped her breast, rubbing his thumb over her distended nipple.  “Need you.”  
  
He moved closer, his hand abandoning her breast to run down her torso and over her bare hip.  Her skin was as soft as he’d imagined it, her lips and mouth exactly as he’d hoped.  His hand stroked over her, his thumb running over her hipbone, his fingers splayed over the curve of her ass.  
  
Buffy trembled in his arms, his touch sending tendrils of want through her, pooling inside her womb.  She needed him to touch her, was craving it.  Nothing had ever felt like this before – nothing.  His lips broke away from hers and she mewled a breathy protest until his mouth licked a path down her face toward a sensitive spot just below her ear.  
  
Will rocked his erection against her, only his jeans separating them as he nibbled on her neck.  Her pants and whimpers in his ear were more than he needed to push him over the edge.  
  
“Will . . .  Please . . oh god, please. . . touch me.”  He couldn’t resist.  The sound of his name. . .   
  
“Open up for me, kitten . . .” he leaned back, looking at her, bared to his sight, his shirt bunched up over her waist, his hand curved around her hip, exposing the dark patch of curls between her legs.  His other hand swooped down, lifting the cotton material further, and Will gently pushed her back against the couch.  
  
Buffy looked up at him, shivering at the hunger in his eyes.  She was bared to his intense gaze, her shoulders against the back of the couch, her knees trapped in the loose shorts.  
  
Will’s left hand slowly stroked her, sweeping around and over her hip, his thumb and fingers trailing through the dark gold curls covering her pussy.  
  
“Oh, kitten, you are fuckin’ gorgeous.”  He breathed out, struggling for control.  His fingers parted her folds, opening her up to his gaze.  Threading through her curls, Will found her clit, watching her reaction as he rolled it between his fingers.  Her hips bucked up and Buffy spread her knees wider, allowing him entry.  
  
His name shrieked from her, harsh panting breaths interspersed with breathy whimpers.  
                  
“Will. . . oh god. . . Will.”  
  
He slid two fingers into her wetness and his mouth watered, his legs finally gave out and Will gave into his desire.  Rotating his fingers, Will thrust into her, searching for the spot as his mouth descended.  Just before he latched onto her clit, Will chuckled and whispered “Oh yeah, little girl, big bad wolf’s gonna eat you up.”  
  
Buffy’s hips bucked again, her shriek of surprise echoing in the living room.  All thought fled, everything was gone and there was nothing left but the feel of his mouth on her, his fingers pumping in and out.  
  
She was shaking, her entire body quivering when his mouth enclosed her and there was nothing but pleasure rolling through her.  
  
Buffy cried, gasped and whimpered his name, tears seeping from closed eyes when his fingers rubbed against something inside her and she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, could only feel.  Her eyes rolled back in her head and every nerve in her body fired at once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our favorite twosome has a bit more road to travel before the course of true love runs smoothly. . . but rest assured, in the end it will (travel smoothly that is), coz, hey, it’s all about the spuffy. . . *laughs*. Anyway, the title is from the song Got me wrong by Alice in Chains (oh yeah them again) from the album Sap.


	14. Crash

_**Fourteenth.  Crash  
  
  
Oh and you come crash into me, yeah  
Baby, and I come into you  
Hike up your skirt a little more  
And show the world to me  
Hike up your skirt a little more  
And show your world to me  
In a boy's dream  
In a boy's dream  
  
Oh, I watch you there  
Through the window  
And I stare at you  
You wear nothing, but you  
Wear it so well  
Tied up and twisted,  
The way I'd like to be  
For you, for me, come crash into me, baby  
Come crash into me, yeah  
    Dave Matthews Band, Crash into me  
  
  
One day she looks like Pollyanna,   
the next day she looks like... I don't know... Lolita, maybe.  
    Showgirls (1995)**_  
  
  
  
  
She was shaking.  The orgasm that ripped through her short-circuited every nerve and muscle in her body.  Buffy couldn’t breathe, could only gasp for air, forcing her lungs to operate when her body couldn’t respond to her brain’s commands.  Trembles roared through her and she couldn’t gain control over herself.  Tears seeped from behind her closed eyes and she tried huddling into a ball but her body wouldn’t – she couldn’t get any of her muscles to answer her brain.  
  
Her teeth were chattering.  It was the first sign Will noticed that something was wrong.  Goosebumps had erupted over every surface and she was shaking like a leaf.  “Buffy?”  She shook harder.  “Kitten, what’s wrong?”  
  
“Cccold.”  She chattered out, the shivers increasing.  
  
Will looked down at her and hauled her off the couch and into his arms.  “Shhh.”  
  
Buffy buried her face in the crook of his neck, holding onto the arm that was circled around her.  “Will?  I’m cold. . . . hold me?”  
  
“Oh, sweetheart.  I’ve got you.”  He walked from the living room toward his bedroom, all thoughts of going further gone from his mind.  Her reaction and the fear in her voice made him pause and think about what he was contemplating.  “Will?  What was that?”  
  
His train of thought had been seriously derailed by her question.  She didn’t know what had just happened – how the hell was he going to explain an orgasm?  He brushed a kiss against her temple and felt another series of tremors roll through her.  
  
Will kicked open his bedroom door, then sat down on the  bed beside her.  She whimpered in protest when he moved to take off his boots.  “Relax, kitten.”  
  
His back to her, Will started talking.  “Just gonna sleep now, sweetheart, not doing anything else.  What. . . Buffy, you. .. . that was an orgasm.”  
  
“Oh.”  She was quiet then she said, “Oh!”  
  
Will looked at her over his shoulder, catching sight of her highly embarrassed state.  “I never. . um. . . not. . . that never happened before.”  
  
His boots were off and Will rolled over, his arms pulling her close.  “Yeah.  I figured that.  ‘S what happens when, well what should happen anyway, if the bloke takes care of his lady.”  
  
“Oh.”  Buffy felt like a fool.  A stupid, innocent little fool.  She buried her face in the pillow, afraid to look at him, afraid he would laugh at her inexperience.  
  
Will felt her stiffen in his arms and wondered what was going through her head.  Drawing a blanket up over them, he whispered into her ear, “What’s wrong kitten?”  
  
“Nothing.”  He wasn’t stupid.  That nothing meant everything.  He just didn’t know how to reach her, make her talk to him.  He’d never done this before, been with a woman who didn’t know her own body’s responses.  Her innocence was priceless, the last thing he’d expected, given her current state.  A soft sniffle caught his attention, breaking into his thoughts.  Was she crying?  
  
“Buffy?”  Will rolled her over to face him, but she wouldn’t lift her eyes from his chest.  “Talk to me.  Can’t help you if you shut me out, love.”  
  
She shook her head in denial that she needed to talk.  A tiny hand came up to wipe away her tears and he just . . . his heart, which was already in danger of being lost, constricted a bit.  
  
“Hey, what’s really wrong?”    
  
Buffy pulled away a bit and Will reacted without thinking, pulling her hard against his chest.  “Don’t.  I want to hold you.”  
  
Relaxing into him, Buffy’s entire body shuddered, then calmed.  Breathing deeply, she lifted exhausted dark hazel eyes up to his and Will brushed a kiss against her forehead.  “Won’t push you kitten, but I’m here.  Not going anywhere.”  
  
Her eyes drifted closed and she sighed softly dropping her head down against his chest.  Curling into his arms further, Buffy breathed out his name once, slipping into sleep.  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
He woke up alone.    
  
Buffy was gone.  The only trace of her left was the scent of her on his pillows and the indentation of where her head had been.  Will cursed as he stretched and eased his muscles into movement.  He got up and made his way through the house, not expecting to find her.  Her clothes were gone from the wash, although his tee-shirt was also nowhere to be found.  A big part of him was angry with her for just leaving without saying a word and another part understanding that she was scared and probably very unsure about everything.  Will debated with himself about picking up the phone and calling her, forcing her to face whatever it was between them.  He knew damn well how he felt, knew it wasn’t just a fling for him, knew it wasn’t a game; that he wasn’t the one in danger of changing his mind.    
  
Will stared down at his cell phone, finger poised over the send button, the internal debate raging.  He wanted to hear her voice.  Wanted to know that she was at least safe.  To know that she wasn’t . . . just to know that she was back in her house.  
  
A deep sigh ripped from his throat and Will put the cell phone down.  If she wanted to talk to him she would call.  He still had papers and tests to grade and he was determined to keep busy, even if his heart wasn’t in it.  
  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
  
Xander had opened his door, bleary-eyed and more than half asleep, a pair of sweat pants hanging low on his hips.  Buffy brushed past him, babbling words coming from her mouth, not allowing him time to question her appearance on his doorstep before eight in the morning nor giving him time to focus on anything.  “Hey, Xan, need the key to my house, got locked out and I need to get back in so I can do some cleaning and you know, other things.”  
  
Barely awake, Xander ran a hand through his scraggly hair, his eyes trying to focus as he caught sight of Buffy watching him, her hands on her hips.  “Keys?”  
  
“Oh.  Yeah.  Um, hang on a minute.”  He headed down to the basement, where his room was, Buffy trailing behind him, her eyes on his back, but her thoughts on the man she left.  
  
Her insistent bladder had woken her up early, long before daybreak and she had taken the time to check her clothes and toss them into the dryer, well, everything except the bra.  She’d crawled back into bed with Will, his arms settling around her like it was something they did every night, instead of for the first time ever.  His hands had automatically circled her hip and breast, the fingers of his left hand brushing against the curls between her legs.  Drifting in and out of sleep, Buffy’s mind had gone over the last two days of her life.    
  
Spending a week with her father was usually a great time.  Usually.  Lately though, it had become more and more uncomfortable; the procession of her father’s bimbos and the constant questioning of her mother’s whereabouts grating on her nerves.  This time, she had the added burden of horrible morning sickness that seemed to be lasting all day – or most of it – and the insane urge to cry – and then she had to find a way to tell her father.  Which had backfired on her terribly.  Buffy had spent two days trying to figure out a way to tell her father and she still bungled it.  _How come every time I have to say something really important, I mangle it completely?  It’s not like I’m dopey-girl and don’t know how to communicate._  
  
Her sigh caught Xander’s attention and he squinted at her.  “What’s up, Buffster?  Something wrong?”  
  
His concern was touching, really, but not anything she could handle at the moment.  She wanted to go home and curl up in her own bed and try not to think of Will’s hands on her. . . his tongue. . .   A thousand butterflies took wing in her belly and Buffy nearly doubled over in response.  The memories of his touch were overwhelming.  Her body responded to the imaginings of her mind, the remembrance of his scent curling inside her, causing her breath to shorten and her cheeks to redden.  _Oh god. . . why am I here?  I should be back at his place and . . ._  
  
Xander’s voice broke through her musings, bringing reality sharply back to her.  “Buffy?  You okay?”  
  
“Huh?”  Her head swung around to gaze at him, the blush deepening as he stared at her.  “Um.  Yeah.  I’m good.”  
  
Taking another deep breath, Buffy ducked her head, avoiding his intense scrutiny.  “Just kind of tired and, you know, out of sorts I guess.  My belly’s all flip-floppy.”    
  
Which really wasn’t a lie.  Her belly was all fluttery, just probably not for the reasons Xander might be thinking.  “Oh.  Are you hungry?”    
  
She laughed.  “Um.  Sometimes, yeah.  Right now?  Nope.”  
  
“Oh.  So why are you all belly rumbling then?”  Xander was rummaging around in his dresser, looking for the spare set of keys to her house.  
  
Buffy shook her head.  “Xand?  Did you, ya know, forget about me?  Prego-girl here?  Tummy rumblings are all of the normal.”    
  
His head snapped up to look at her.  “Yeah.  I guess I did forget.  Sorry.”  
  
“No big.  You got those keys?”  Buffy perched on the edge of a chair, hands clenched in her lap.  Now that she thought about it, those butterflies had taken up a different flight pattern and suddenly she was trying to fight the urge to throw up everything she’d ever eaten. She needed something cool to lay down with, because her entire face felt flush and she. . . jumping to her feet, Buffy made a motion to Xander when he held up the keys in his hand and ran past him to the bathroom.  
  
The sound of retching reached through the thin walls of the bathroom and Xander grimaced in disgust. _Man, being pregnant must suck big time._  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
By the time Monday morning rolled around, Will was beyond pissed.  She had called once, leaving a message on his voice mail,  just to let him know that she got the spare keys from Xander and was home safe and sound and that she was going to lie down and sleep.  He hadn’t heard from her since then and his natural tendency to worry was taking over.  He thought he’d scared her, moving way to fast but he hadn’t been able to control himself.  What really irked him was that he knew what he was doing was wrong, at least in the eyes of some people.  Will had a very clear idea of how the school board and the administration and, well, the legal system would react to his actions the other night, if somehow it was discovered.    
  
The truth of the matter was, she was seventeen and his student.  There was no getting around either of those facts, no way of dressing it up or changing it.  She wouldn’t be eighteen until sometime in January, if he remembered her correctly; but that was only half the problem.  The legal system would turn a blind eye if she was eighteen and _not_ his student, but the administration and the school board would not.  The news was full of teachers who had been accused of having relationships with students, and not one of those ended well for the teacher; most often the teacher got sacked and labeled a pedophile.    
  
William Giles Stevenson was not a fool.  He knew the way he felt about her was wrong, in their eyes.  Knew he was walking a very fine line, one that could end up with him spending time in a correctional facility, not only losing his job but the additional real possibility of being deported for his actions.   And yet, despite knowing that, despite being very aware of crossing a line with her – Will didn’t regret one instant of the other night – except one.    
  
He was not happy about waking up alone.  Hadn’t been happy about it at all.    
  
He’d tried taking his frustrations out on the punching bag and free-weights he had in his basement; tried writing about his frustration in his poetry; and lastly, drowning it in drink Saturday night.    
  
Nothing had worked.    
  
The clawing need he had to see her, to hold her hadn’t dissipated at all in the days since Thanksgiving.  If anything, it had been worse, since that small taste of heaven.  Will wasn’t normally a selfish person but this time he was going to be.  He wasn’t going to let her slip through his fingers.  He was going to brand himself into her soul until she had no choice but to want, need, crave him as much as he did her.    
  
But he wasn’t going to be stupid about it either.  He wasn’t going to lose his job or his freedom – he was going to make sure she understood that this wasn’t going away anytime soon.  That he wasn’t going to run off at the first sign of difficulty.  Nor was he going to stop wanting her.    
  
He’d been a veritable grouch all morning, barking at students, growling at everyone he passed, ignoring his fellow teachers at lunch and just really not being himself at all.  The papers he’d graded had been handed out, his comments bordering on the acerbic and he knew he shouldn’t be taking it out on everyone else, but he was angry.  
  
It wasn’t until she walked into his classroom that the band around his chest eased and his breathing got steadier.  She looked better than he’d seen her in weeks, her eyes clear and not red-rimmed, no hint or trace of tears, her skin glowing and a smile on her face.  Will stood staring at her for long minutes, unable to think at all.  
  
  
********************************************************************  
   
  
After leaving Xander’s Buffy had gone straight home and, then leaving a message on Will’s voice mail, she’d brushed her teeth and gotten out of her clothes, except for Will’s shirt and climbed into her bed.  She woke up late Friday afternoon, eaten some spaghetti, watched television for a few hours, fallen asleep on the couch and done the same thing on Saturday and Sunday.    
  
The rest had been exactly what she needed.  She woke up Monday morning feeling better than she had in months and without any hint of morning sickness.  _Yeah, baby!  Thanks for letting mommy sleep and eat and for not being bratty baby this morning._    
  
It had taken her longer than usual to get ready for school and she had a sinking suspicion that she was dressing to impress.  Finally deciding on a short denim skirt and a pretty red top, Buffy pinned up her hair and smiled at her reflection in the mirror.  _Look at mommy today, baby, she’s feeling pretty good. . . now just be nice to mommy and she’ll be happy for the rest of the day.  Remember, happy mommy makes happy baby.  
_  
Avoiding the English classrooms all morning had proved harder than she thought.  Her feet kept leading her in that direction, and twice she’d found herself in the hallway leading toward his classroom, before she checked herself and headed deliberately in the other direction.  But now it was time.  She’d eaten lunch with Willow and Xander, praying the whole time that her belly wouldn’t rebel and force her to skip English.  _Nope.  Not today, baby.  Gotta go . . . even if the butterflies are fluttering hard.  
_  
He’d been on her mind all weekend.  The way he moved. . . . the way he talked.  His eyes, glittering like sapphires then darkening into deepest midnight, with their uncanny ability to look right through her.  His voice. . . _oh god_. . . his voice, rough and low, sending those butterflies into flight and his hands. . . . Buffy blushed thinking about what his hands and his mouth had done.  She wiggled in her seat, trying to hide her thoughts from her friends.   
  
Too soon, lunch was over and it was time to head to his class.  Those butterflies were taking up permanent residence in her belly, right next to the baby, and Buffy wasn’t sure which one of them was causing the feelings that were coursing through her, but she closed her eyes and prayed for five minutes of calm and the ability to walk into his classroom nonchalantly.    
  
He was standing in the back of the classroom, watching her fellow students wander in, a silent sentinel in the back.  She couldn’t look at him to see what he was wearing or his expression, because if she did, Buffy knew she was going to end up throwing herself at him.  She knew the moment he saw her, felt his body react to her presence and hers reacted just as strongly.  Glancing up at him from beneath lowered eyelids, Buffy blushed and smiled.  Her breath caught in her throat and she just stared at him for long minutes.  
 _  
Oh god. . . he. . . gah._  
  
He raised his lip in a slight smile, his eyes twinkling as they ran over her form, making sure she was okay.  Her smile got wider and he tilted his head in acknowledgment, then called the class to order.  
  
The forty-five minutes passed by too quickly, leaving Buffy with absolutely no idea what they’d discussed and her brain filled with images of him and the timbre of his voice echoing in her head.    
“Miss Summers?”  She picked up her head at the sound of her name, her eyes fixed on his.  “Please see me after classes.”  
  
A mere nod of her head was his answer, but at the reassuring looks everyone else gave her, she figured it wasn’t obvious what had been on his mind.  “Okay.”  
  
The bell rang, signaling the end of his class and Will watched her go, his eyes following her out the door.  Harmony Kendall was in his face in the next instant, pushing her way toward him to question the failing grade he’d given her, erasing all further thought of chasing after Buffy from his head.  
  
Two classes to go and then he could see her.  That was all he had to wait.  Just an hour and a half.  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
She floated out of his class, her thoughts filled with images of him and how he’d come to her rescue, how he’d taken care of her and all those other things he’d done.  What she never expected . . . _his mouth_. . . Buffy blushed every time she thought about it.  
  
Willow was chattering away, going on about something and Buffy was only half listening to her, focusing instead on those damn butterflies.  She was thinking about naming them, because, _hey, they’re living here inside me just like baby._   Buffy brushed a hand over her belly, a soft smile on her features.  Willow, mistaking the expression on her face and thinking that Buffy had been listening to her called her on it.  “Buffy?  Did you hear what I said?”  
  
“Huh?  What?”  
  
“Come back down to earth.”  Willow gave her a little laugh.  “Did you hear me? The English Lit students are all going Los Angeles to see a play.”    
  
That finally caught her attention.  “Really?  When?  Which one?  Who’s going?”  
  
Giggles erupted from Willow’s mouth as she caught a glimpse of Buffy’s face.  “Um.  Sometime later this month, the fifteenth, I think.  Not sure what show, but you could ask Mr. Stevenson when you go see him.”  
  
“Sure.  I can do that.”  Buffy assured her best friend, all the while thinking, _yeah, I can . . . if I can remember to **think** around him. _   
  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
  
Classes were over ten minutes ago.  Five minutes ago, Sara Logan had stopped in and asked him if he wanted to come out for drinks on Friday, and then borrowed his English Lit syllabus.  And now he was pacing around his room, his hands in his pockets, trying his best not to stare at the clock on the wall.  This was crazy, arranging to meet her on school grounds, but Will was afraid she would just avoid him once they were on the outside.  She would be smart if she did reject his advances, stopped him cold in his tracks and make herself stay away.  He hoped otherwise, hoped that she was just as helpless in all this as he was, unable to stem the tide of want and need surging through their bodies.  
  
Twelve minutes.  Will stared up at the clock, his eyes tracking the movement of the second hand around the dial.  She wasn’t coming.  His shoulders slumped and he dropped his head back to look up at the ceiling.  He slowly closed his eyes, willing away the anger and tears, trying to find a small, tiny bit of acceptance; believing that she was going to the be sensible one in this relationship and call a halt to everything.  
  
His eyes fluttered closed, the dark lashes looking impossibly long and dark against his pale skin.  The expression on his face was anything but peaceful or resigned.  He was fighting the urge to go find her, the only evidence of his internal battle in the set of his shoulders and the balled fists at his side.  Will was so lost to the internal fight he didn’t hear the door opening nor the soft tread of her feet.    
  
She took two steps into the room, not seeing him at first, then quickly swept her gaze through the quiet room.  He was standing partially in shadow, his head thrown back and eyes closed, muscles tense and drawn.  Buffy stared at him, her eyes noting the strong lines of his profile, the deceptive slightness of his form belying the strength of his will and his muscles.  A soft smile graced her features and all she wanted to do was move closer to him, bask in his warmth, watch his eyes twinkle.  Her breathing accelerated and she could feel her body begin to respond to his nearness.    
  
Two steps closer and she could almost touch him.  Wanted to reach across the distance and touch him.  But fear . . . did he want her?  She wanted him so much that her breath hitched and an almost sob emerged from her throat.    
  
His mind was filled with images of her golden silky skin against the backdrop of his black leather couch.  Will sent a short prayer to the heavens, hoping that some deity would have pity on him and let her change her mind and show up.  A noise broke through his pleadings and Will straightened, turning toward the source of the sound.    
  
 _There she is. . . my angel._   Will’s smile was genuine, finding the object of his affection standing in front of him, watching him.  Neither one of them spoke, words suddenly not enough to convey the depths of what they were feeling.  Buffy’s hazel eyes were a bright green with glittering lights and Will was lost in her.    
  
He circled around her, moving through the rows of desks to the door, closing and locking it.  Will leaned his shoulder against the door, his eyes back on her, a slight leer on his lips.  “Buffy.”    
  
It was just her name.  Something she heard every day, something so mundane that it shouldn’t hit her right in her gut.  But it did.  His voice. . . she got the feeling that his voice would always have this effect on her, making her knees weak and her belly flutter. . . _oh.  There they were again.  Those crazy butterflies._  
  
“Hey.”  Her smile answered his and his breath was knocked from him. _She’s bloody beautiful._  
  
Silence fell between them, neither one of them able to breach the gap.  There was no awkwardness, no need to fill the silence with useless babble.  His arms folded across his chest, his eyes steady on her, but the tension was gone, blasted away in the face of her presence.    
  
When she finally spoke, it was like a continuation of a conversation they’d been having all along, like they hadn’t been apart for the better part of four days, like they’d only just parted a short time ago.   “I let the dogs out before I left.”  
  
His voice rumbled in the air, and he took a step closer to her, “Yeah, I let them back in.”  
And then his arms were around her, his scent engulfing her, his words going right through her, warming her from within.  “Missed you when I woke up.  Wanted you there.”   
  
“I. . .” His finger reached out to brush against her lips, silencing her.  “I understand, kitten.  Too much. . . yeah?”  
  
Buffy closed the gap between them, nuzzling into his chest.  “I guess.  But I missed you all weekend.”  Muffled against his chest, she still sounded like a very little girl.  Her arms circled his waist, her fingers looping into his belt, holding him close.    
  
“Missed you too.”  He fell silent again, listening to the thrum of her heart against his, the soft inhalations of their breaths, content to just hold her.    
  
His heart was thumping steadily under her ear and Buffy inhaled deeply, drawing his scent down into her depths.  She didn’t want to move, wanted to stay safe like this for a very long time.  His hand swept across her back, then threaded into her hair, loosening the clips holding it up.  He leaned down as she looked up at him and instead of kissing her forehead, Will brushed his lips across hers, his tongue seeking entrance.  Buffy sighed, opening her mouth to him, letting him in.  
                          
Soft, sweet, she tasted of strawberries and smelled of traces of vanilla.  Will cupped her head in his hand, strands of golden silk wrapping around his fingers.  Buffy slipped her arms up around his shoulders, standing on her toes, her entire body pressed up flush against his.  Will’s hand snuck down, cupping her butt beneath the short skirt, feeling her bare skin under his rough fingers. He broke off their kiss, breathing heavily.  “Kitten?”  
  
A shy grin crossed her features and Buffy batted her eyelashes at him.  “I. . . um. . .”    
  
Bright red spots bloomed on her cheeks and she couldn’t say the words out loud.  His look of utter surprise was quickly swallowed by a knowing leer and his tongue slowly swept across his teeth, and Buffy’s grip on his shoulder tightened.  He growled into her ear,  “Naughty little kitten.”  Then his teeth nipped at the soft spot on her neck.  “Open up for me, little girl.”  
  
She mewled a soft little noise into his neck that went right through him.  Her fingers dug into his shoulders, while his tongue licked a path from her ear down her neck, nibbling as he went.  “God, sweetheart, you taste so good.”    
  
“Will?”  Buffy pulled away from him, her eyes wide and shy gazing down into his intent features.    
“Yeah?”  His fingers trailed across her hip, delving into the curls that covered her sex.  “Oh god, baby. . .”  
  
Their lips met again, mouths joined, tongues swirling together.  Harsh panting breaths broke across her cheek and Buffy’s heart was thundering in her chest.  Will broke away from her mouth, his eyes intent on the skin his touch was revealing.  “Oh, sweetheart, the way you fee . . . like silk under my hands.  Warm living. . . oh god. . .”  
  
He dropped to his knees, both hands under the soft denim, his mouth nuzzling over her covered mound.  “Show me. . . c’mon . . .”  
  
Sliding his hands down her legs, Will forced her legs apart, but went no further, just let his  thumbs rub gentle circles at the spot just over both knees.  His eyes lifted to see Buffy’s face and he watched, transfixed as her tongue brushed over her lips and shy wonder crept into her eyes.  Low and tempting, his voice rumbled in the air between them and she forgot everything but him.  “C’mon, little girl, show me. . . please.”  
  
She could no more resist his sexy plea than she could stop breathing and emboldened by his request, Buffy dropped her hands from his shoulders and toyed with the hem of her skirt. “You want me to . . .” she asked – at once afraid and aroused by his desire.  
  
“Oh yeah, want. . . need. . . c’mon, kitten, show me. . .” His chest was heaving now, anticipation whetting his appetite for her into the stratosphere.   
  
Her feet moved to just outside his bent knees, her hips thrust forward just enough to tease. Inch by slow inch, Buffy moved the soft denim material up her thighs, watching his reaction.  Will was dying by those inches, thumbs pressing harder into her flesh, his mouth watering, aching to taste her.  He couldn’t stop the words tumbling from his mouth, egging her on in his need.  “That’s it. . . oh god. . . please, baby. . . show me. . . c’mon.”  
  
The shadow between her thighs beckoned him, and the second she revealed it to his hungry gaze, Will was on her.  Groaning into her, he couldn’t, didn’t want to fight.  The first taste of her drowned him and he knew he was lost for good.  His tongue lapped at her, his hands holding her tight against his face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from the Dave Matthews band (Crash Into Me) sort of and you’ll see why I used this particular song.


	15. Hands of fate

**_Fifteenth: Hands of fate  
  
My little girl  
Drive anywhere   
Do what you want   
I don't care   
Tonight I'm in the hands of fate   
I hand myself   
Over on a plate   
Now   
Oh little girl   
There are times when I feel   
I rather not be   
The one behind the wheel   
Come   
Pull my strings   
Watch me move   
I do anything   
Please   
Sweet little girl   
I prefer   
You behind the wheel   
And me the passenger   
Drive   
I'm yours to keep   
Do what you want   
I'm going cheap   
Tonight   
You're behind the wheel, tonight_**  
  
  
First her mother called and then Sara Logan’s boyfriend called him, and now she was on the phone again, this time with Willow.  He was beginning to hate cell phones.  Really.  Truly.  With a passion that bordered on. . . . Will ran a hand through his already tousled curls and eyed his underage girlfriend.  A smile curled his lips despite his frustration as he watched her try to talk on the cell to her best friend.    
  
She really was adorable.  And her blush was enough to drive him crazy with want.  
  
Buffy was currently sitting on his desk, talking animatedly to Willow, while he watched her.  She was twirling a piece of hair in her fingers, her eyes avoiding his, although she was very aware of his eyes on her, because the blush never left her skin.  
  
It was crazy and he knew it.    
  
They were taking a huge risk, meeting in his classroom, after hours.  He had no idea why his mouth had said that earlier and he really was going to have to watch every last thing he said, because he had absolutely no self control around her.  His brain shut down and his body just did exactly what it thought was best.  Which wasn’t always a good thing.  He got, not so much tongue-tied, but he just didn’t always say the best thing or the most responsible thing either.  And he knew he had to be the smart one.  Knew he should be telling her that they had to stop, he just couldn’t get his mouth to cooperate.  
  
He wasn’t listening to her conversation, didn’t want to know any of the teenaged things she might be planning on doing, because it would only reinforce what he already knew.   There was a world of difference between them, a world of experience.  He sometimes felt so old watching her; far older than the ten years separating them, especially when she was sitting in his classroom or walking in the halls with her friends.  But when they were alone, just the two of them, all the rules went out the window – all the doubts and those differences were no longer of any importance.    
  
Will was staring at her again, his eyes on her legs where her ankles crossed, watching the smooth play of muscles as she swung her feet.  The taste of her was still strong in his mouth, on the roof and rolling over his tongue.  Will was determined not to forget it, the salty sweetness of her and he brought his fingers to his mouth, in an effort to fix her taste in his memory.  He never heard her end the conversation, nor did he realize she had turned off her phone until she lightly jumped down from his desk.  Her face was flaming red again and she couldn’t look him in the eye.  
  
“Will?”  She lifted her eyes, focusing on his lips.  “Are you mad at me?”  
  
“No.  What makes you think that?”  He was mystified, because he’d been patient for the entire length of the call, not even distracting her as he wanted too.  
  
“Because you’re frowning and you’ve got,” she shrugged, uncertain about his mood.  “I dunno.  I just thought you’d be mad at me.”  Buffy risked a glance up at his eyes and was surprised to see affection and something else she couldn’t identify swirling in the depths.  “I’m never sure around you.”  
  
“Why’s that, kitten?”  He was intrigued and yeah, he’d been aggravated at first, but really, oral sex in the classroom, not something he should be engaging in, no matter how badly he wanted her.  Will reached out, snagging her tiny hand in his, meshing his fingers with hers.  
  
She seemed to relax the second his hand touched hers.  “I can’t talk . . . I’m all. . .” she sighed, trying to make him understand how she felt whenever he was around or even when she just thought about him.  Taking a deep breath, Buffy just blurted it all out.  “See, I’ve got these butterflies. . . and they sort of like you and every time I think about you or talk to you they sort of fly around and make me get all fluttery too.  And I know that doesn’t make any sense and I can’t explain it and. . . ”  
  
The instant she started talking, he pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her, holding her against his chest.  Yet that wasn’t enough.  He needed more.  Will picked her up, his hands sliding underneath her skirt, palming her bare skin, pressing her hard against his renewed erection.  His mouth cut off her words and she melted into him, her curves soft against his hard planes.  
  
Her legs wrapped around his waist, the skirt riding up as he held her tight.  “Buffy. . . oh god. . .”  
  
He was just about to slide his fingers into her warmth when his cell phone vibrated at his hip and the handle to his classroom rattled.  His uncle’s voice sounded in the hallway outside his door and they both froze.  Buffy pulled away, panic clearly on her face, and Will held his hand over her mouth gently when she tried to speak.  Will pulled her close into his arms, his mouth against her ear.  “Shhh.  It’s okay, he’ll leave after a moment.  I locked the door, remember?”  
  
Buffy nodded against his chest, and she could hear their hearts thundering in a syncopated beat.  _This was crazy._ They shouldn’t be doing this at all. _Not here, anyway._  
  
Giles went away after a few moments, though neither of them moved for long minutes.  Buffy pulled away from him, wiping tears from her eyes.  “I . . have to . . I can’t do this.  Not now.”  
  
Grabbing her bag, Buffy headed straight for the door, fighting with the lock to get it opened.  Will stared at her for a moment, then shot to her side.  “Buffy. . . Buffy.  Stop.   Sweetheart,   c’mon, stop.”  
  
She was hyperventilating, unable to get a clear breath and hiccups sounded in the still air.  Her fingers were scrabbling for the lock and when he touched her, Buffy collapsed against him.  “Will?  I’m scared.  I can’t. . . I’m scared about everything.”  
  
“I know, baby.  I know.”  He held onto her, his own panic receding in the face of hers.  “It’s gonna be okay, I swear it.  Shhhh. . . c’mon, baby, don’t cry.”  
  
“How am I supposed to do this?  I . . . the baby and Riley, that dumbass and. . . now you and. . .  Mom and what Dad said and. . .”   All the fear she had came tumbling out of her, the floodgates opened by the scare they’d just lived through and Buffy couldn’t stem the tide.  He was the only one who listened and didn’t make a judgment, who just let her cry or laugh or just be.  Everyone else looked at her like she was an alien or something.  Even Willow looked at her funny some times.  And she hated it.  Hated being different.  Hated all the changes that had happened before she even had a chance to get used to them.  She wasn’t ready for all of this – being a mom – at least not on her own.    
  
The only time she didn’t feel alone was when she was with him.  
  
He didn’t treat her any differently, except for the touching, but . . .   Buffy looked up into his concerned blue eyes and broke down again.  Will picked her up, cradling her against his chest, his voice murmuring low against her cheek.  They were nonsense words, just noises really, but it didn’t matter.  It was his voice, his arms holding her and Buffy knew there was nothing better than this.  She was safe with him.    
  
The tears stopped almost as quickly as they came and Will smiled when she swiped her nose on his shirt.  “I’m so sorry.”  
  
“Hey, kitten, it’s okay, really.  You can do that anytime.”  He half smiled down at her, wiping away the mascara stained tears from her cheeks.    
  
“Panic?  Nope.  Don’t think I wanna do that anymore.”  Pushing away and out of his arms, Buffy stood in front of him, leaning into his chest.  Taking a deep breath she looked at him.  “This isn’t a good idea.”  
  
He sighed, then kissed her before she could say anything further.  “I know, sweetheart.  We shouldn’t.  It’s wrong.  And I’m years older than you.  But Buffy,” he looked down into her eyes, his hands cupping her face, “I don’t care.  I don’t want to let you go.”  
  
“I don’t want to let you go either.  But meeting here is crazy.”  Her voice was a soft breath over his skin and Will leaned down to kiss her again.    
  
“So we don’t do this here.  Ever.”  He kissed her once more, and any resistance she might have been able to muster melted under his insistence.  “Okay?  Not here.”  
  
Buffy slid her arms around his waist, her face pressed against his chest, just over his heart.  “Okay.”  
  
  
****************************************************************  
                                  
  
They waited a full half hour before venturing from the classroom.  His cell phone had gone off again, and this time, in an effort to keep his hands from wandering over her yet again, Will answered it.  It was Sara Logan, wanting to touch base with him about a couple of things that she kept forgetting to mention, including how to get around certain restrictions  for the trip to Los Angeles.  They were the only two senior English Lit teachers who were going on the trip and both were trying to avoid sharing a room with their colleagues.  Sara was trying to get the Will to agree to sharing a room with her boyfriend and then they would switch, after all the “children” were tucked away in their beds.  
  
Buffy watched him while he talked, almost the same way he had watched her earlier, while she’d been chatting with Willow.  He never sat still.  Or rarely anyway.  He was up now, pacing the room again, the phone to his ear, gesturing one handed.  Buffy’s eyes were riveted on his forearm, watching the play of muscles as he moved it around.  He really was. . . he was deceptive.  Will didn’t look all that imposing or tall, but he had an indefinable something that drew everyone’s eyes – and not just women.  She’d seen the way guys reacted around him, the way the smarter students responded, the way he was able to connect with almost everyone around him.  He made it seem so easy.  Even Snyder, that worm of a principal, backed off from him.  Only Mr. Giles didn’t seem to be all that affected, though now that Buffy knew the truth about their relationship, something they’d managed to keep a closely guarded secret, it made perfect sense that Giles wasn’t afraid of him.    
  
He was strong, she knew that much.  Though they didn’t talk about, she sort of knew what had happened that day Xander and Riley had fought.  At least she knew what Xander had told her about what happened.  Will had pretty much cold-cocked Riley, nearly knocking him out, without even breaking a sweat.  Pretty impressive considering Riley was a couple of inches taller and probably had him by a few pounds.  While watching the play of his muscles under his skin, Buffy didn’t think height and weight were all that important when it came to power.  She had a feeling that Will could more than take care of things if it was important.  

  
She was so caught up in watching him move around that she didn’t hear him end the phone call.  Perched on the edge of his desk, her mind just contemplating the man in front of her Buffy had a wistful smile on her face that drew his attention.   
  
“What’s on your mind, kitten?”  His voice startled her and Buffy blushed again at being caught daydreaming.  
  
“Nothing.  Just. . . watching you.”  She ducked her head so that he couldn’t see the tell-tale blush on her cheeks.    
  
Will tilted his head, a grin on his face.  “Like what you see?”    He sauntered closer to her, almost prowling.  “Well?”  
  
“Oh god.”  She breathed out, her eyes big and wide in her face, staring at him.  _He’s sooo damn hot._ “You are such a hottie.”  
  
He spluttered out a laugh at her artless exclamation.  “Me?”  
  
She shook her head, wondering at his reaction to her statement.    
  
“Not me, sweetheart.”  
  
Grinning back at him she quipped, “Oh yeah, you, and you know it.”    
  
He’d reached for her then, his arms automatically sliding around her, his voice a low growl in her ear.  “Yeah baby, that’s me.  All bad.”  
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
  
“I’m sorry, Miss Summers, but I cannot allow you to go on this trip.  Your circumstances dictate that.”  Buffy sat in Principal Snyder’s office, while the little man denied her request to go on the senior trip to Los Angeles.  
  
“My circumstances?  What are you talking about?”  Buffy was afraid of this, that people were going to start treating her very differently, though she’d never expected this reaction.  
  
“Really, Miss Summers, don’t play stupid with me.  The entire school knows, the administration knows and the school board knows.  Your pregnancy, Miss Summers, has forced the administration to make adjustments for you.  I don’t like making adjustments for students.  I don’t like letting students have the upper hand, especially ones without a future.  You, Miss Summers, are going nowhere.”  
  
Snyder had a sadistic nasty little smirk on his face as he delivered this pronouncement to her, uncaring of the fragile emotional state of the girl in front of him.  
  
“There will be no more adjustments, Miss Summers.  No excuses for lateness or absences and everything will count.  And you will not be going with the seniors to Los Angeles.”  
  
She started to protest and Snyder’s smile just got wider, the gleam in his eyes positively malicious.  “No. Miss Summers, there is no recourse.”  He got up, moving to the door of his office.  “Have a good day.”  
  
And she had no choice but to leave.  
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
  
Willow was practically bouncing in her seat, excited about going to Los Angeles to see a play and Buffy tried hiding her disappointment and her upset from her friend and it was, amazingly working.  The redhead was enthusiastic enough for both of them.  
  
But the tears were just below the surface and Buffy knew if she saw Will in this state, she’d just start blubbering.  It was easy to let go whenever he was around.  He didn’t expect her to be stoic and strong, didn’t expect anything from her.  She wanted to curl up in his arms and just. . .  Just be.  
  
She couldn’t though, because it was daylight and a school day.  Thankfully, though, it was Wednesday and they were going to see each other.  It was two weeks since the near disaster in his classroom and aside from classes, they’d only had a brief handful of moments, most of them spent kissing.  
  
The bell rang for class and Buffy suddenly realized she couldn’t sit in his classroom at all.  Mumbling some excuse to Willow about not feeling good, Buffy fled in the opposite direction from his class.  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
His life was reduced to counting hours between meetings.  It was insanity, it was completely crazy, what he was doing and he knew it.  Every time he touched her, Will put himself in danger of, at a minimum, losing his job.  And yet he couldn’t stop.  
  
They were reduced to meeting in the one place they knew no one would even think to look.  In Restfield Cemetery.  Will thought it ironic that the one place he felt really alive was the place housing hundreds of dead people – the cemetery – whenever she was near.  And as much as it killed him, he refused to let anything other than kissing happen.  And it was killing him.  He walked around with a damn near perpetual erection and no matter how many times he took himself in hand, it was right back the minute he thought of her, which seemed to happen all the time.   
  
Will didn’t fool himself though, he new that the situation wasn’t going to last, he wanted her too badly, needed to touch her.  
  
He was pacing the length of his classroom, waiting for his sixth period class to finish filtering in and when Willow came in alone, Will knew something was up, something not good.  If Buffy wasn’t with her, since the girls were almost inseparable during school hours, there was definitely something wrong.  Especially if she didn’t come to his class.  He knew it was the only place in the building that she felt one hundred percent safe and that was because it was his room.  But he couldn’t make a big deal of her absence, even if it worried him out of his mind.  He had to shrug it off and play it nonchalantly.  But inside he was worried.  
  
Calling the class to order, Will focused on his lesson plan and tried pushing her absence out of his mind.  
  
  
***************************************************************  
  
  
The house was empty again.  Her mom was gone.  She’d left this morning for South America, Brazil she thought, on a buying trip.  She wouldn’t be home until the sixteenth and today was only the eighth.  Will would be leaving on the same day her mother returned and wouldn’t be back until the nineteenth, the last day of classes before the Christmas break.  
  
Buffy put her books down on her desk and laid down on her bed.  That was when the tears started.  She’d really wanted to go on the trip, wanted the opportunity to do everything the rest of her class got to do.  She wanted to be normal, just for a little while.  Wanted to forget that she wasn’t normal, not anymore.  Part of her really wanted to pretend that she wasn’t pregnant, wasn’t alone, wasn’t scared out of her mind and wasn’t in love with her English teacher.  
  
 _Wait a second.  What?  No.   That . . ._   Buffy hugged Mr. Gordo tighter to her chest.  She rolled the thought through her head a couple of times.  I _’m in love with my English teacher.  I’m in love with Mr. Stevenson.  I’m in love with Will Stevenson.  I love Will.  Oh my god.  
_  
Buffy rolled over onto her side, clutching Mr. Gordo and one of her pillows tight to her chest, a watery smile on her features.  
  
  
**************************************************************  
  
  
Her cell phone was off.  He’d tried calling her twice and he didn’t dare leave a message in case someone else got a hold of her phone.  She’d disappeared from school and he hadn’t heard from her at all.  Will was beginning to worry about her, but he also knew that she would show up in time to meet him in Restfield.  Instead of going to open mic night, Will had skipped the last two Wednesdays, preferring to spend his time with her.  As much as he loved performing, he loved her more and she was more important to him.  
  
Pacing the confines of his kitchen didn’t help.  He kept picturing her, wandering around the rooms, curled up on his couch, sitting beside him or on his lap.  Frustration made his motions jerky, as he moved around the room putting dishes away.  He needed to be doing something, any thing to keep his mind off Buffy.  _Yeah, right mate, how to keep your mind off the girl you love._ Blowing out a breath, Will stood still for a moment.  Grabbing his cell phone, he tried one last time to get her on the phone.  
  
Will was standing in his kitchen, his cell phone at his ear and he growled when her voice mail picked up for the third time.  In a very controlled motion, because he wanted nothing more than to throw the thing against the wall, Will put the cell phone down and walked away from it.  The dogs were under his feet, Kennedy growling and yipping while he stalked from one room to the next.  Idly noting the time, Will realized it was two hours before he could even expect to meet her in the cemetery and he knew he wasn’t going to last.  Will was standing in the living room, staring at his couch, anger and frustration coursing though him.  Which was completely irrational and he knew it.  
  
 _That’s it.  I don’t care.  I’m going to see her now._ Will stomped toward the door, his keys in hand and he’d opened the door to find his uncle and Jenny standing on the doorstep.  
  
“Will.  We just stopped by to see if you wanted to grab dinner.”  
  
He stifled the groan that was building in his throat and motioned them inside.   Though he hated to admit it, this was divine intervention, and he wasn’t about to foolishly ignore it.  But he needed to let Buffy know he might be a few minutes late tonight.  
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
  
She’d fallen asleep on her bed, something that was happening with increasing regularity.  Buffy liked naps, but the need for daily ones was beginning to worry her.  She wondered if she should mention it to her doctor.  Buffy stretched, almost willing to stay put, except the fullness of her bladder and tummy growling let her know she couldn’t stay put, no matter how much she wanted to.  
  
Buffy washed her hands and face after she was done in the bathroom, staring at herself in the mirror.  Those dark circles were back and her eyes were a dull, flat, murky brownish-hazel.  _Okay girl, can’t go looking like this.  Gotta do something to look okay for Will._ Stripping out of her clothes, Buffy stepped into the shower.  Hopefully, she’d be on time tonight and not very late.  
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
  
Dinner was a quick and painless affair, all things considered, but it had given Will an insight as to why Buffy had skipped out of school.  Giles’ offhand comment about Snyder’s latest campaign to humiliate and degrade his students one by one having found its latest target would’ve passed right by him if not for the second half of his comment.  “Apparently Snyder refused to allow Miss Summers a waiver that would allow her to go on the trip.”  
  
Will froze, which went unnoticed by his uncle, though Jenny looked at him curiously as he continued to sit there.  It was the look on her face and the question in her eyes that made him aware of the strangeness of his reaction.  He recovered before Jenny could say anything, mumbling a question at his uncle.  
  
“Snyder told her in no uncertain terms she wasn’t allowed any more concessions, that he wasn’t going to allow her any leeway at all.”  Giles stabbed his steak, displeasure obvious.  
  
Will sat back, looking at his uncle.  “He did what?”  
  
“Refuses to allow her any more absences or latenesses.”  Giles had such a look of distaste on his face that Will stopped eating.  
  
“And you agree with him?”  
  
Giles looked up swiftly, his gaze meeting Will’s for the first time since the conversation started.  “No.  I don’t.  Snyder is an overbearing prick.  And what he’s doing is wrong.”  Giles shook his head.  “The girl needs compassion and help, not Snyder’s attitude.”  
  
At this Jenny’s curiosity got the better of her.  “What’s wrong with her?”  
  
Will took a deep breath then said, “She’s pregnant and only seventeen.  She’s one of the smartest girls I’ve ever taught.”  He refused to go any further, knowing if he did he’d betray his feelings.  
  
“Buffy Summers scored almost perfect marks on her SATs and she could possibly have a very bright future ahead of her.  She’s a very sweet girl.”  Giles put in his two cents, then added, “However, her home situation isn’t good and the baby’s father has abandoned her also.  Poor girl is going through a very rough patch.”  
  
Jenny made all the appropriate responses, her eyes never leaving her plate, yet some sixth sense was telling her that somehow Will was more affected by this than he was letting on.  But she held her tongue.  
  
It wasn’t long after that when Will made his excuses, leaving his part of the check, then heading for the door.  Jenny watched him go, contemplating his profile as he reached for his cell phone.    
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
  
She got his cryptic message, wondering what could keep him, but knowing it was something he couldn’t easily get out of.  Instead she waited at her house until it was time to meet him and then she headed out.  
  
It was cold, well, cold for Sunnydale, and she’d brought a blanket with her.  One or the other of them did that, and she hoped he remembered one also, because it was chilly.  Buffy wandered through the headstones, thinking about what Snyder had said to her earlier.  His comments echoed the ones her father had made and Buffy fought the tears.  _Not crying about this anymore, coz it’s just not helping and making me feel worse.  Dad’s a jerk and Snyder’s a worm._  
  
She kicked a low headstone, then grumbled when her toes hurt.  She apologized to the dead person, hopping away on one foot.  
  
He watched her approach, a smile on his face as he caught glimpses of her talking to herself.  “Hello, cutie.”  
  
“Will!”  She dropped the blanket and practically flew at him.  
  
His arms opened automatically, sweeping her into his embrace, wrapping her in his strong arms.  “Missed you, kitten.”  
  
She nuzzled under his chin, inhaling his scent deeply.  “Me too. . . was so tired and I needed to sleep.”  
  
He knew she wasn’t telling him the whole truth, knew that was only partially the reason she’d left early.  “So Snyder being an ass wasn’t why you left?”  
  
Buffy glanced up at him.  “Okay, so that was a big part of it.  He’s such a troll.  I hate him.”  
  
“Can’t say I blame you.”  Will snagged the blanket she’d dropped, walking her backwards toward one of the mausoleums.  It looked like a cave, with roughhewn marble walls and it afforded them more shelter from the chilly night air than some of the others.  Sitting down first, Will pulled her down into his embrace.  “Did you eat?”  
  
“Yup.  Mom left stuff again.”  He was silent.  Her mother’s frequent trips were starting to bother him somewhat.  The woman was barely ever home.  
  
“How long is she gone for this time?”  Will hugged her close, his hand worming its way under her top, his long fingers brushing over a hardened nipple.  
  
“Cold hand!  Hey!”  She tried wriggling away from him, but Will just chuckled, pulling her closer.  “She’ll be back around the sixteenth, just in time to get ready for Christmas.”  Buffy made a face.  “This time next year I’ll be a mom and the one trying to get everything ready for Christmas.”  
  
Will pictured her, bathed in the glow of Christmas lights, surrounded by wads of wrapping paper and bows, baby toys scattered all around her, the smell of pine and bayberry and vanilla enveloping her.  The fact it was his living room and that she was pregnant didn’t really register until she started softly humming a Christmas song.  
  
“I love Christmas.  It’s so nice.  What’s Christmas like in England?”  She shifted in his arms, looking up at him, her eyes fixed on his lips.  
  
“Not like here.  Usually cold, damp . . .” He got a wistful look in his eyes, then continued to tell her what Christmas had been like when he was small.  For some reason he always remembered the last Christmas before his father died, when his mum laughed for no reason and everything was happy.  Perhaps it was because the following year was so bleak, his father dying around Guy Fawkes Day and nothing had been the same since.  
  
There were tears in her eyes when he finished, though he supposed it was in response to his tale.  He hadn’t meant to say that last bit, about his parents, out loud, but he must have, because she reacted to his words.  
  
“Oh Will, that’s so . . .” Buffy pulled his head down to hers, her lips finding his in a comforting kiss.  She had no other way to comfort him, not at that moment.  She wasn’t even sure which one of them she was seeking to comfort.  
  
Will held her in his arms, the chill night air around them and made a silent promise to himself, and to her, that someday soon, he’d take care of her and have a Christmas with her, like the ones he used to have and it would be the way he remembered because they would be a family.  
  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
They had no free moments during the next few days and only brief meetings at night.  The temperature dropped unusually low for Sunnydale, but what was worse was the rain.  Will was beginning to think the heavens were conspiring against them when the rain didn’t let up for four days.  And then, just as suddenly as it had changed, it cleared up and the temperature started to climb.  
  
 _Figures, just in time for me to leave._   It was the night before the seniors and some select juniors were to leave for Los Angeles.  Once more they were sitting in the cemetery with Buffy cradled in his arms.  “You sure you’re gonna be okay, kitten?”  
  
She sighed, her breath warm against his neck.  “I’m gonna be fine.  Mom comes home sometime tomorrow and you don’t have to worry.”  
  
“Always have to worry ‘bout m’girlfriend.”  He didn’t realize what he’d said until she twisted around on his lap to look up at him.  
  
“What did you . . . did you just call me your girlfriend?”  She paused, looking for the answer in his eyes, which were trained on hers.  “Why did you?”  
  
He ran a thumb down her cheek, his other fingers curving around her head, holding her steady.  “‘S what you are.  Can’t rightly take you out and treat you proper jus’ now, but doesn’t mean I won’t.”  
  
Buffy had a strange look on her face, something Will hadn’t ever seen before and it confused him for a long minute.  He thought maybe he’d said it too soon or had it wrong, that she didn’t really feel the same until she said, “It’s how I think of you. . . as my, well, not as my girlfriend, but you know as my . . . boyfriend.  And I thought I was crazy to think that and I’m babbling aren’t I?”  
  
His broad grin and twinkling eyes were enough to tell her it was okay and he said, “Yeah, you are, kitten, but it’s sweet.”  
  
She pouted a tiny bit and he almost growled at her.  “You aren’t just saying that are you?”  
  
He was confused for a second, not really following her line of questioning.  “Sayin’ what?”  
  
“That I’m your girlfriend.”  She ducked her head, almost afraid to look at him.  
  
Will kissed her temple, then lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him.  “Wouldn’t play with you like that kitten.  There’s only you.”  
  
He didn’t say anything more, afraid she would be frightened off, but he was thinking it.  Thinking about her being more than just his girlfriend, more than just . . . he didn’t want to let her go.  Ever.  Wanted that. . . love, honor, cherish . . . commitment from her.  But Will thought it was too soon, imagined it would be too much for her.  
  
Buffy searched his eyes, looking for some sign that he was playing with her emotions.  No one ever. . . . her parents’ love was conditional, dependent upon their moods or how they were feeling about each other – she had realized at a young age that her parents had a love-hate relationship and it was hard living in that shadow.  And Riley had said over and over that he loved her, yet at the first sign of trouble, he bailed on her.  Buffy wasn’t stupid, she knew that wasn’t real love.  But Will . . . he never said the words, didn’t toss them about easily, and yet, his actions kept proving that he felt something for her.  She hoped it was love, because she was more than suspecting that’s how she felt.  
  
Her small hand cupped his cheek, her thumb running across his lips, a soft smile on her face.  Buffy kissed him, her lips soft and sweet and Will groaned, deepening the kiss.  
  
  
****************************************************************  
  
  
When she got home from school, her mom was already in, unpacked and napping up in her room.  It had been a miserable day, mainly because nearly all the classes were empty and Willow was gone with the others on the trip.  And Will was gone too.  
  
Thankfully, Xander, who wasn’t taking Senior Lit, was still around, but he wasn’t much help for her mood either, since Cordy was on the trip.  They moped around together most of the day, neither one of them in the happiest of moods.  Xander chalked Buffy’s mood up to being sad she had no girlfriends to talk to and tried hard to cheer her up, though it was obvious to both of them that his heart wasn’t in it.  She’d left school early, since her last two classes were completely empty and got home in time to get the mail.  There was a card for her and a note indicating there was a certified letter waiting for her mom at the post office.  
  
Leaving the small note for her mother, Buffy climbed the stairs to read her card in private.  There was no return address and she hadn’t a clue who sent the card.  
  
It wasn’t until she was lying on her bed, with the envelope open that she realized who it was from.  The card was one of those missing you notes, and was addressed to kitten, signed always without a name.  But she knew.  
  
She didn’t need his signature.  Brushing away a tear, Buffy slid the card under her mattress, then got out her homework.  
  
Hours later her cell phone ringing woke her up and squinting at the time, Buffy thought about not answering it, but when it kept ringing, she flipped it open.  
  
“Hello, cutie.”  His voice sounded so close.    
  
“Hello, yourself.”  
  
     


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from Depeche Mode (one of my all time favorite bands) from the album Music for the Masses (the song is Behind the Wheel)and the quote is just the song lyrics, so they belong to the boys, not me. But they kind of sum up how Will thinks of Buffy, at least some times.


	16. Mama may have. . .

_**Sixteenth   Mama may have. . .  
  
Mothers are not simply models of femininity to their daughters   
but also examples of how a woman reacts to a man.   
Daughters learn about fathers, and men,   
not only by being with Dad but also by observing their parents’ marital relationship—  
or its unraveling.   
        Victoria Secunda  
  
Mothers who have little sense of their own minds and voices   
are unable to imagine such capacities in their children.   
    Mary Field Belenky, Blythe Mcvicker Clinchy, Nancy Rule Goldberger, and   
    Jill Mattuck Tarule, Women’s Ways of Knowing. **_  
  
  
  
  
Joyce held onto the registered letter for two days before she thought about opening it.  Nothing good ever came from a registered letter and she knew this one wasn’t going to be any different.  It sat on her dresser, and every time she walked passed it, she thought about opening it, but changed her mind.  She was too busy getting ready for Christmas to deal with it anyway.  
  
Once more standing at her dresser, Joyce knew she was really just avoiding the issue.  The letter and its contents weren’t going away anytime soon.  She didn’t want to read whatever was contained in that letter.  Determined to ignore it yet again, Joyce resolutely walked away and grabbed the rest of the Christmas decorations.  The holiday was less than a week away, time the house looked like it.  Maybe now Buffy will stop moping around.  
  
  
**********************************************************  
  
  
He’d called every single night while he was gone and they’d talked for hours.  It was easier, because she could say anything and not have to worry about him watching her and harder because she wished that it was like she kept imagining.  That they were curled up together on his bed, his arms around her and her head on his chest, his voice reverberating under her ear.  
  
But they were coming back today, sometime around three and he wanted to see her tonight.  Needed to see her or so he said.  So Buffy was taking extra care getting ready for school, her mind so focused on Will that she didn’t hear her mother’s knock on the bedroom door.  
  
She jumped when her mother’s voice sounded from her bedroom doorway.  “Buffy, you want to explain this letter?”  
  
Turning confused and startled eyes toward her, Buffy shrugged.  “What letter?  What’re you talking about?”  
  
“This letter that came from the Finns’ attorney.”  Joyce held it out so that Buffy felt compelled to take it.  
  
“I didn’t know you got a letter from them.”  
  
Joyce’s voice, when she finally spoke, was flat and emotionless.  “When were you going to tell me they offered you seventy-five thousand dollars to sign away Riley’s rights?”  
  
“I dunno.”  Buffy shrugged again, not wanting to get into it with her mother first thing in the morning.  “Do we have to talk about this now?  Can it wait until later?”  
  
“No, Buffy, it can’t.”  Joyce folded her arms across her chest, watching her daughter intently.  “When were you going to tell me?”  
  
Buffy shrugged once more, unwilling to admit that she probably wouldn’t have ever told her about their offer.  She dropped the letter on her bed, not wanting to touch it anymore.  
  
“That’s an awful lot of money.  Not something you say no to on your own.”  Joyce was upset, not only because Buffy had refused their offer, but also because she hadn’t even told her about it.  
  
Buffy was trying to control her temper, though it wasn’t proving easy.  “These are the same people who wanted me to have an abortion, Mom.  Not much with the trust and good feelings.”  She moved away from her closet.  “Besides, it’s my decision anyway.”  
  
“No, it’s not just your decision.  I’m your mother.  I have a right to know about all this.”  Joyce picked up the letter, waving it around for emphasis.  “You can’t make this kind of decision on your own.  You aren’t an adult yet.”  
  
Temper flaring, Buffy turned around to face her mother.  “I’m an adult, Mom.  Adult enough to make decisions, hard ones about my future and do what’s best for me and the baby.  And seventy-five thousand isn’t enough.  Sorry if you don’t like it.”  
  
Joyce got huffy, once more waving the letter at her daughter.  “Did you read this?  It isn’t seventy five thousand anymore.  Maybe you should rethink your decision.”  
  
With that Joyce left the room, slamming Buffy’s door behind her.  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
Aside from being without her for three days, the trip to Los Angeles wasn’t so bad.  It had given him a chance to talk to both Sara and her boyfriend Malcolm, and to spend time thinking about his relationship with Buffy.  He was grateful too, that he’d agreed with Sara’s little plan, because he was able to spend hours each night talking to her, and, although he had to resort to taking care of business after, it wasn’t something so unusual.  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had to wank so much – it had at least been since he was a teenager – but even then Drusilla had been around.  
  
He hadn’t expected any more from Buffy than she was willing to give and he had a feeling that she wasn’t really ready for them to have sex.  Aside from her not being ready, it was impossible for them to meet anywhere but the cemetery.  They couldn’t risk being seen in public, couldn’t risk her being seen going in and out of his house, unless in a group and he couldn’t go to hers.  It would have been all together different if Buffy drove – but she didn’t.  He was going to have to change that soon, because the winter, such as it existed in Southern California, was just starting and while not quite as cold as other places, it did get chilly at night and it rained a lot, since they were on the coast.  
  
The bus ride back to Sunnydale was interminable, the two hour drive turning into a disaster from the moment they boarded.  Traffic was backed-up from the minute they’d left the hotel and now, an hour and a half into the drive everyone was restless, grumbling and complaining about the lack of movement.  Will was sitting in the front, trying to read, when the sound of raised voices reached his ears.  Not recognizing any of the voices involved, Will put down the paperback and reluctantly got to his feet to settle the situation.  
  
Making his way back to the area where the raised voices were coming from he was surprised enough to stop dead in his tracks.  Willow was almost standing on her seat, face flushed and bright spots of anger on her pale skin, mouth moving and venomous words tripping from her tongue.  She was faced off against Riley and Harmony, who were two seats behind the redhead, Harmony on her feet in the aisle while Riley was sitting with his back against the window.  The teens were surrounded by a group of others, most of them stunned to silence by the normally quiet Willow ripping Harmony and Riley apart.  
  
Willow paused to take a deep breath, her hands fluttering about in her agitated state and that was when he realized he had an opportunity to stop this.  “All right.  What’s going on back here?”  
  
Wary eyes turned to him as the students began to register his presence.  Enraged dark green eyes met his and Willow spluttered something that vaguely resembled English, trying to explain what was happening.  Will raised his hand, cutting her off.  “I’m not sure I need to know the exact particulars, Miss Rosenberg, I can pretty well imagine what was going on.”  
  
“How can you be so nice to her, she was saying all sorts of mean and nasty things.”  Harmony flounced back into her seat, which happened to be Riley’s lap, giving him what she thought was an adorable pout.    
  
“Miss Kendall?  Park your butt in your own seat, not on Mr. Finn’s lap.  And those tactics don’t work with me.”  Riley muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like an insult to Will, and in response, Will raised an eyebrow.  “Care to share your opinion with the rest of us, Mr. Finn?”  
  
When Riley remained quiet, Will nodded, saying, “I didn’t think so.  Detention, tomorrow, for everyone.  Next one to raise their voice will get suspended.”  He waited patiently, looking pointedly at Riley, almost daring him to speak, but the teen remained stubbornly silent.  
  
Leaving the teens where they were, Will headed back to his seat.    
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
Her mother was sitting at the dining room table when Buffy came in the door, the hated letter on the table in front of her.  Joyce had been staring at it for more than a few minutes, trying to formulate arguments to persuade Buffy to see reason where this offer was concerned.  One hundred thousand dollars would go a long way to making sure both Buffy and the baby had everything they needed.  It would certainly help her situation enormously.   
  
Never once questioning the motivations behind the gesture, Joyce merely took it at face value.  To her it was simple.  The money was enough to make up for the lack of a father.    
  
Buffy took one look at her mother sitting at the dining room table and knew she’d been stewing about it all afternoon.  Trying to head off the coming storm, Buffy spoke first.  “No work today?”  
  
“No.  I took the day off to recuperate and get things done around here.”  Joyce motioned to the chair opposite her.  “Sit down so we can talk.”  
  
“Mom.  I really don’t want to do this.”  Buffy made a face, shifting from one foot to the other, reluctant to sit with her.   
  
Joyce sat back in her chair, watching her daughter squirm.  “No, I really think we need to talk about this now.”  
  
Buffy hesitated, torn between wanting to get this over with and wanting to avoid it altogether.  Resignation washed over her when she caught a glimpse of the determination on Joyce’s face.  “All right, Mom.  Lemme hit the bathroom first, okay, then we’ll talk.”  
  
Nodding her head, Joyce watched her daughter go, her thoughts focused on marshaling her thoughts.  The teen was back quickly, prepared to face whatever arguments Joyce could come up with to talk her out of refusing the money.  
  
Drawing in a deep breath, the older Summers woman began speaking.  “Buffy, this is a lot of money, money that neither your father nor I have immediate access to.  This money could support you and the baby.”  She paused, holding up her hand to forestall Buffy’s impending interruption.  “Yeah, I could get some of that money, and I’m sure your father has plenty of money that he’s not sharing with either of us, but that isn’t the point.  The point is the Finns are offering and I believe the smart thing to do would be to accept.”  
  
“That money isn’t nearly enough, Mom, not for either of us.  Just how long do you think it’s going to last?  Ten years?  It won’t even get us to when the baby is a teenager.  And forget about college.  I won’t be able to afford that for myself, much less for the baby when the time comes.”  Buffy was shaking her head, refuting everything her mother had just argued.  “All the expenses add up to way more money then they’re offering and really, Mom, it’s just wrong.”  
  
“What’s wrong?”  Her daughter’s last statement had Joyce a bit mystified.    
  
Buffy sighed, trying to corral her scattered thoughts.  “What they wanna do, Mom.  They wanna buy me off so I’ll go away and leave Riley alone so he can go off and do what he wants.  Have his future.  Go to West Point.”  Buffy fought sudden tears.  “It’s not fair.  I didn’t get myself pregnant – this baby is just as much his responsibility as mine and he shouldn’t be able to just sign us away and forget.”  
  
She did have a point, although one that Joyce wasn’t really ready to concede.  “There’s no guarantee he’d stick around, sweetie.   Lots of men don’t.  Your father didn’t and we were married.  I think you’d be better off getting what money you can now and forgetting about him.  He’s just like all the others.”  
  
“No, Mom.  I still think its wrong and I don’t . . .” She paused, once more trying to find the right words without bursting into tears.  “I don’t care if he sticks around later, that’s not what this is about.  This is about him owning up to the fact this is his baby.  It’s about him having to think about it every month as he writes out the support check.  It’s about him . . . and me, not about you and Dad or anyone else.”  Buffy looked away from the sharp-eyed gaze of her mother, her jaw set and shoulders squared.  She wasn’t going to back down from this decision.  “Besides, Mom, you should know just how much it costs to raise a kid – and you know damn well that this offer isn’t nearly enough.”  
  
Her tone had gotten hard with those last words and unwilling to continue the discussion, Buffy got up from the table.  “Let me know what we’re gonna do about dinner.  I have homework to do.”  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
He had a raging headache by the time he got the kids off the bus and into the custody of their parents.  Times like these he almost hated teenagers and Will was convinced they were all of demonic origins.  And bus trips with them were the tool of the devil, designed to inflict torture that would have made Torquemada proud.    
  
Will also now had to deal with the paperwork suspending both Harmony Kendall and, surprisingly Willow Rosenberg.  The girls hadn’t stopped bickering back and forth the entire trip, even after he’d thought he’d calmed them down by threatening them with the suspension, but apparently Harmony was as stupid as she appeared, because the girl had provoked the studious redhead once too often.  

  
Harmony had walked passed Willow, supposedly to get something from Cordelia Chase, who was trying to stay out of the whole situation and inadvertently knocked Willow’s head with her elbow.  Which really, no one believed, least of all him.  Willow hadn’t retaliated physically, but verbally, and he’d discovered, much to his amusement, that Rosenberg had quite the harpy’s tongue when she was provoked.  Separating the two had been an exercise in futility, much like washing a pair of cats, and had contributed heavily to Will’s headache.  Rosenberg had ended up sitting with him, while he’d grudging placed Kendall with Cordelia Chase, who promised to keep her contained and away from the other girl.   
  
Thankfully, the Chase girl had come through and she’d kept the blond in her seat and away from everyone else, including the over-fed wanna-be soldier boy she was currently dating.  Which he picked up from the constantly muttering Willow, who hadn’t been in the least bit happy that she’d gotten suspended because of Harmony Kendall.    
  
As much as he liked some of these kids, including Willow Rosenberg and Cordelia Chase, Will was thankful he was done with this trip and didn’t have to do another one of these for a year.  He was tired and drained and really just wanted to get himself a drink and kiss his girlfriend.  Well, that really wasn’t all he wanted, but it was all he was going to have to settle for, because his girlfriend was under-age and he couldn’t just take her to bed like he really wanted to do.  _How in the hell does she put up with all this crap every damn day?_  
  
He really wanted to know, because this nattering and bickering was enough to drive him round the bend, he couldn’t imagine being all caught up in the drama of it all.  Will got the feeling Buffy didn’t care much for the gossip and backstabbing, at least not anymore.  Once you’ve been the brunt of more than your share of rumors and the target of more than a few nasty barbs, the taste for such pettiness wore off rather quickly.  She didn’t say much about it, though he knew there were times when the bullshit got to her, especially whenever Harmony was the one orchestrating events.    
  
Rubbing a thumb over his scarred eyebrow, Will made his way into his uncle’s office, prepared to give him a report on why he’d suspended two girls, when Willow’s voice called out to him.  “Mr. Stevenson?”  
  
He turned, waiting for her to catch up to him.  “Yeah?”  
  
“I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have, but you know, I can’t stand what he’s done and he’s just such a big jerk and really, Harmony?  And like, it’s just so wrong what he did and she’s not around to defend herself or even wants to . . . and,” she paused, noting the bewildered look on his face.  “I didn’t use any verbs or finish any of my sentences did I?”  
  
At his shaken denial, Willow took a deep breath and started over again.  “Harmony was talking about Buffy and saying some very mean things and not-so-very-much with the truth either about her and Riley, that big jerk just sat there and said nothing.  Didn’t even tell her to shut up, which is way wrong and just, how could he do that?”  Without skipping a beat or waiting for his response, she launched right back into her babbling.  “Anyway, I lost my temper and I’m sorry.  I’m not mad at you or anything.  I understand why you did that.”  Her goofy smile lit up her face and it took him a minute to figure out what she was blathering on about, but he eventually got it.  
  
“It’s all right, Red, I understand why you went after Harmony.  But next time, do it someplace other than a school event, okay?”  He peered down into her eyes, trying to convey without words what he meant.  
  
“Oh.”  It took her a minute, but Willow got it. “Ohhh.  Right.  See ya, Mr. Stevenson.”  And with a little wave and a wrinkle of her cute nose, Willow ran off.  
  
Will was shaking his head with tired laughter when he finally reached Rupert’s office, though it was quickly replaced with the burning need to get home and do nothing.  
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
  
Dinner was a strained and silent affair, neither of the Summers women willing to concede or agree their opponent’s position.  Buffy had the feeling this letter was going to become a real issue between them, because her mother was clearly upset with her, the tense set of her jaw and the glint in her eyes a clear indication of Joyce’s temper.  
  
For her part, Joyce understood very well what Buffy was trying to say, but didn’t care to listen to her headstrong daughter.  Most of that money could be invested and Buffy could use a little of it each month for expenses.  If they invested the bulk of it, that would be almost enough.  As it stood, this was a solid offer and Joyce couldn’t think of any reason to refuse it.  Pride could be swallowed for that kind of money.  Lots of things could be overlooked for that kind of money.  
  
Buffy was being stubborn, and, in Joyce’s opinion, very foolish about this whole situation.  It was clear to her that Buffy was hoping Riley would come to his senses and marry her.  Joyce was harboring no such hope.  She’d long ago given up believing there were any good men left, ones willing to assume their responsibilities and take care of their families.  The fairy tale of happily ever after didn’t exist and the sooner Buffy faced that the better off she was going to be.  Riley wasn’t going to marry her and even if, by some miracle, he did, they wouldn’t last more than ten years.  _And really, why bother if that was going to be the ultimate outcome?_ It wasn’t worth the pain and aggravation for any of them.  Better to take the money and shut him out.  Her daughter’s heart would be safer that way.  
  
If Joyce had known her daughter any better, she’d have been far more worried.  
  
Buffy, on the other hand, knew her mother very well.  Knew what she was thinking about the money and knew what her mother thought about men.  Everything with her parents was colored by their feelings for each other and frankly, Buffy was tired of it.  She wasn’t hoping Riley would beg her forgiveness and want to marry her.  In fact, if he did any of that, the way she felt right now, she’d probably slug him.  And she had this feeling that Will would react even more violently.  Will . . . suddenly she really wanted, needed to see him.  Needed to be held by him, to hold him close.  If this baby was his, she knew none of this would be an issue.  He wouldn’t run away, wouldn’t try to buy her off or ignore her and she sure as hell didn’t believe for one second that he’d dump her and start going out with some dumb blonde.  
  
Idly picking at the remains of her dinner, Buffy jumped when her cell phone buzzed at her hip.  Lifting it to her ear, Buffy said a soft hello and smiled when he whispered low and rumblingly, “Hello, cutie.”  
  
Picking up her plate, Buffy walked into the kitchen, listening to him tell her what time they should meet.  Disconnecting with him, Buffy hit speed dial for Willow’s number and enlisted her to act as cover without giving her any real details, and telling her they would talk about the trip and why Buffy needed her to cover during the next day’s lunch, Buffy put her dishes in the dishwasher and turned back to the dining room to confront her mother and lie to her about where she was going.  
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
  
He arrived a good twenty minutes before she did, unable to stay away any longer.  Will needed to see her, feel her, hold her. . . just needed her.  The headache was gone, vanquished with the assistance of tylenol, beer, and the lack of noisy teenagers.  Now all he needed was to see her and he’d be a happy camper.  He was pacing around the headstones, his tread heavy and purposeful, even if he was just going in ever widening circles.    
  
Buffy watched him for a few minutes, content to just see him stomping about, his head down and his long black duster swirling around his feet.  She loved that coat.  It was old, probably as old as she was, if not older, the leather soft and buttery.  It was as much a part of him as the bleached hair, and she wondered if he’d acquired the coat around the same time as he started bleaching, and what was the reason behind that anyway?  Eventually, she was sure to get the truth of it out of him, because there just had to be a good story behind that.  And the scar.  He hadn’t detected her presence just yet and she could hear him humming some tune as he waited.    
  
Will made another ever-widening circuit through the headstones surrounding their favorite crypt, his mind blank.  The fuzzy buzzing in his ears from the bus trip was finally going away and now he had an old Smiths tune running through his head and the fatigue from the bus trip from hell was beginning to wear on him.  Plus, he had to break the news of his Christmas plans to her and Will really wasn’t looking forward to that.  Drusilla and Liam were expecting him, like they did every year since the girls were born.  He sighed, lifting his head up to look at the clear night sky, and caught a glimpse of Buffy watching him.  
  
She was leaning against a tall marble headstone, her head cocked to the side, eyes trained on his pacing form and a soft smile playing on her features.  God, he fucking loved her smile.  It did all sorts of funny things to him, making him weak in the knees and want to do everything in his power to keep that smile on her face.  Crossing the distance between them, Will swept her into his arms, his mouth on hers in greeting before she could even react to him.  Buffy curled her arms around his neck and shoulders as he lifted her in the air, her legs wrapping around his waist and soft whimpers sounding in her throat.    
  
He smelled so good.  Smoke and leather and cologne and just him.    
  
She smelled like heaven.  Vanilla and jasmine and home and just her.  
  
He broke off the kiss to bury his head between her breasts, pushing aside her coat and inhaling her scent deeply.  “Fuckin’ hell, I missed you so much.”  
  
“I missed you too.  A lot.”  Buffy slid her hand down under his collar, desperate to feel some skin.  She had missed him, missed being held by him, missed knowing he was just a quick walk across town if she needed to see him, missed seeing him in school.  A soft sob escaped from her throat and she whispered, “Oh god, Will, I missed you so much.”  
  
“Hey, what’s this?”  He looked up at the sound of her whispered confession to find tears pooling in her eyes.  “Kitten, you knew I was comin’ back, shhh.  Don’t cry, baby, please?”  
  
She nodded her head but the tears fell anyway.  He reached up his left hand to wipe away her tears, his other arm tightening around her waist.  “Sweetheart, please don’t cry.”  
  
Buffy nodded again, a quavering smile breaking out over her features.  “I’m so weepy-girl.”  
  
“It’s all right.  I’m here now, I’ve got you and ‘m not letting you go.”  His fierce declaration unfurled the knot that had been sitting in her belly for days and Buffy let go of the rigid hold she had on her emotions.  Laughing and crying at the same time, she wrapped her arms back around him, her head dropping down to his neck.  She kissed him once, twice and nipped him on the third and was rewarded by his low growl.  His hand worked its way under her shirt, warming at the touch of her skin.  He carried her back toward their crypt, murmuring softly in the crisp night air, reveling in the feel of her in his arms.  
  
Once settled, Will reluctantly brought up the subject of Christmas.  
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
  
Buffy was proud of herself for not breaking down in tears when Will had told her about his standing Christmas plans and for not getting angry either.  Truth was, she was numb and more hurt than anything else.  She’d been hoping that they might be able to sneak away to Los Angeles for the day and be together without fear of someone seeing them, like a real couple without serious issues.  She hadn’t cried while they talked about it, nor as he walked her home, but once inside the confines of her bedroom with Mr. Gordo in her arms, Buffy let the tears fall.  It wasn’t fair, how they had to hide because of stupid rules.  Because some people might get upset.  But she was afraid too, that maybe he . . . _nah uh Buffy, not gonna think about it.  I am not going to believe that he doesn’t love me, just because he hasn’t said the words.  I’m gonna be all trusting girl._  
  
She fought a sniffle and the tears that were threatening and listened to Willow gushing on about the trip to Los Angeles, determined to pay attention.  They were sitting in Sunnydale’s only lunch spot that didn’t cater to the highschool crowd, mainly because Buffy didn’t really want to deal with any of her fellow classmates, at least not at the moment.  And they weren’t in school because Willow had surprisingly gotten suspended for her actions on the bus trip back.  Buffy had waited for her to show up all morning, but it wasn’t until English that she found out why Willow wasn’t in school.  There had been no opportunity to ask Will about it either, and so she’d left his classroom and called Willow right away.    
  
So here they were, surrounded by senior citizens with hearing problems and all sorts of other problems that were far more important than the petty twists and turns of another day in the life of a highschool student.  Buffy’s eyes swept over the tables around them, her gaze resting on an elderly couple, their hands entwined and heads bent together.  They looked so sweet, their wedding rings glinting in the December sunlight, highlighting the wrinkles and spots of old age on their skin.  She stared at them for long minutes, watching with tears in her eyes as the old man reached out to cup his wife’s face and then, as his gnarled fingers hovered over her aged lips, the old woman kissed them.  _Oh god.  That’s so sweet.  And beautiful.  And I want that.  I want someone to love me when I’m old and wrinkled.  I want Will to love me when I’m old and wrinkled.  
_  
Willow watched her best friend as tears sprung to her eyes, and turned her head to follow her line of sight, to see what had made Buffy cry.  All she saw was an old couple sitting together, the wife wiping the man’s mouth as he gently pushed her hands away.  Something else was bugging her, Willow could sense it, and her curiosity got the better of her.  “Okay, Buffy, spill.  I wanna know what’s going on.”  
  
It took the blond a minute to come back to herself and she blinked in wide-eyed confusion at her best friend.  “Huh?  What?”  
  
“You’ve been off in la-la-land for the past couple of days.”  The redhead leaned back in her seat, pushing away her salad.  “So dish, tell me what’s on your mind.”  
  
“Wills, you haven’t been here for the last couple of days.  There’s nothing on my mind.”  Buffy waved her off, pretending there was nothing wrong.  
  
“Right.  So that old couple over there didn’t make you cry for some reason and your head hasn’t been in the clouds since we sat down.  So dish, gimme the goods on what’s in your head.”    Willow stared into her face, not letting Buffy look away.  
  
Giving in, knowing that Willow wouldn’t rest until she had the full story, Buffy leaned forward until they were only inches apart, separated only by the table and stared Willow down.    
  
 _Whoa, that is one scary look._   Willow swallowed noisily, waiting for something dire to emerge from Buffy’s mouth.    
  
“You swear not to breath a word to anyone?  I mean not anyone.  Not ever.”  Buffy had a look on her face that Willow had never ever seen anyone wear.  A look of determination and stubbornness and something indefinable that Willow couldn't find words to describe.  Fierce anger?  Protective vulnerability?  Whatever it was, it was a contradiction in meanings, and boded something very serious indeed was in the telling.  
  
“No one.  I swear.”  She paused a beat, then squeaked out, “Not even Xander?”  
  
“I mean it, Wills.  Not Xander.  No one.”  Buffy’s jaw clenched and her lips thinned, all traces of softness gone.  “Promise me.”  
  
“Okay.  Okay.”  She grinned sheepishly, hoping to lighten the mood a little bit.  “Wanna pinkie swear?”  
  
Despite the seriousness of her expression, Buffy smilled.  “You are such a goof.”  Sobering instantly, Buffy continued.  “Okay, so you promise?”  
  
“Cross my heart and all that.”  Willow made the criss-cross motion over her heart, a crooked grin wavering on her features.  
  
Inhaling deeply Buffy said softly, “I met someone.”  
  
Willow squealed a bit then changed her expression when Buffy didn’t break out in accompanying giggles.  “This is a good thing, right?”  
  
The petite blonde was shaking her head.  “Oh, it’s of the good.  The best.  But he’s older.”  She waited gauging Willow’s reaction.  
  
“Oh a college man, go Buffy!”  Wait – does he know about the baby?”  Willow sipped her water, waiting for Buffy’s answer.  
  
“Yup he knows.  And he’s not in college.”  Buffy looked down at her french fries.  “He’s already graduated and got his master’s too.”  
  
Willow nearly dropped her drink.  “How old is he?”  
  
And that’s when the look – the oh-my-god-I’m-so-in-love look bloomed across the golden tanned features of her best friend, shocking Willow completely.  “Buffy?”  
  
“He’s . . .  He’s great, Wills.  He’s so sweet and kind and he’s known from the beginning about teen-mom Buffy and it’s like he doesn’t care, well, okay, he does.  But,” she paused, trying to gather her scattered thoughts, “It’s like it doesn’t matter.  He doesn’t treat me all freaky, except he’s like way over-protective.”  
  
“Wow.  Just.  Wow.”  The giggles were back.  “So details?  C’mon, I’m your best friend, paint me a picture.”  
  
Buffy hesitated, knowing somehow if she described any part of Will, other than his personality, they’d be busted.  And the last thing she wanted was for them to get caught.  So she kept his looks out of the description she gave Willow and extracted another promise from her about keeping her mouth shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is from a Billie Holliday song (God bless the child).


	17. All I want for Christmas is you

**_Seventeenth.  All I want for Christmas is you  
  
  
Now that was when people knew how to be in love.   
They knew it! Time, distance... nothing could separate them because they knew.   
It was right. It was real. It was...   
    Sleepless in Seattle, 1993  
  
All the lights are shining  
So brightly everywhere  
And the sound of children's  
Laughter fills the air  
And everyone is singing  
I hear those sleigh bells ringing  
Santa won't you bring me the one I really need  
Won't you please bring my baby to me  
  
Oh, I don't want a lot for Christmas  
This is all I'm asking for  
I just want to see my baby  
Standing right outside my door  
Oh I just want him for my own  
More than you could ever know  
Make my wish come true  
Baby all I want for Christmas is  
You  
  
All I want for Christmas is you baby  
All I want for Christmas is you baby.  
    Mariah Carey, All I want for Christmas is you  
_**  
  
  
  
Will stared down at the small box in his hand, contemplating what he was about to do.  He’d spent the better part of a week trying to come up with a gift for her and he’d found nothing, until he dug out a box of his mother’s things.  The irony of his life was, he always found what he was looking for right under his nose.  Will smiled.  _Yeah, mate, the woman of your dreams was there all the time, ‘course she was still in nappies but she was there._  
  
Sifting through the jewelry, he nearly gave up on finding anything when his finger snagged the ends of a necklace.  Fishing it out, Will remembered it always hanging around his mother’s neck when he was very young.  It was beautiful in its simplicity.  Simple links, square cut emerald surrounded by four round diamonds, the setting old and elegant.  It was perfect.  
  
Or at least he’d thought so, a week prior when he’d taken it to get cleaned, but now he wasn’t so certain.  _Too much?  Not enough?  Would she like it?  Was it even something she might wear?_ Will was besieged with doubts.  He had no back-up in case she didn’t like it – nothing else to give her – except his other equally sentimental idea, except now he wasn’t sure about that either.  Not to mention it was perhaps, just a bit too soon for that.  
  
Looking up at the clock, Will cursed his indecision.  No time to go looking for something else.  They were meeting in a half hour and he still had to wrap the necklace.  _Better get to it, you git._  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
Buffy eyed the packages piled on her bed.  She had thought, when she got the idea, that it was perfect for him, but now she wasn’t sure.  He probably already had everything.  She pouted a bit, then shrugged.  There was no way she was going to be able to change any of it.  The book had been sheer luck, and the music was a stroke of genius, at least she’d thought so.  _Now . . . gah.  Too late._  
  
Grabbing the brightly wrapped packages, Buffy headed out the door.  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
For once, she was early, anticipation making her rush.  Buffy was huddled under a blanket, her back against the crypt wall, her eyes scanning the area.  
  
Those damn butterflies were back, zinging back and forth in her belly, making her insides sing.  
  
She hadn’t told him that she’d sort of confided in Willow.  And despite the redhead’s best efforts, Buffy still hadn’t told her any more than she did that first day.  There was no way she was going to betray his trust like that.  Or them.  One thing she knew – they were in this together and what affected one affected them both.  And getting caught would be not of the good and really, she didn’t want to be visiting Will in some icky, yucky jail.  Nope.  
  
His whistling a Christmas carol signaled his imminent arrival and Buffy smiled, feeling the butterflies take flight.  She lifted her head, her smile blinding.  
  
Will rounded the corner of the mausoleum, his eyes finding her immediately.  She was tucked up in a corner, her face lifted to his, her eyes sparkling in the pale moonlight.  “Hey, you.”  
  
“Hullo, love.  Been waiting long?”  Will leaned against the marble, his hands tucked into his pockets.  
  
“Nope, not to long.”  She held up one edge of the blanket, motioning him closer.  “Come snuggle.”  
  
He knelt down, pulling her into his embrace.  His nose bumped against her temple.  “C’mere, you.”  
  
Buffy went willingly into his arms.  
  
Their mouths met, tongues entwining, connecting in the only way they allowed themselves.  Will gathered her closer, his hands snaking up under her shirt, cupping both breasts.  “God, kitten . . . love the way you feel.”  
  
Her forehead rested against his lips as she arched into his hands.  “Will . . .”  
  
Abruptly he broke off, moving a little bit away from her, his eyes on her face.  “You are so beautiful.”  He breathed out, his voice husky with need.  “You make me feel things, kitten . . . make me want. . . Everything.”  
  
Tears sprung into her eyes, because this was the first time he’d spoken of more than the now.  She forced them back, smiling at him instead.  “You make me feel stuff too.”  
  
“Yeah.  Butterflies, right?”  His returning smile was crooked.  
  
“Totally.”  Reaching down beside her, Buffy lifted the packages and shyly presented them to him.  “Merry Christmas, Will.”  
  
“Oh, sweetheart.”  Dipping into the inside pocket of his duster, Will grabbed the small box.  Weighing it in his hand, he held back for a moment, then drew in a deep breath.  “Happy Christmas, love.”  
  
Buffy glanced down at the little box nervously.  She hesitated long enough for him to notice and he nudged her, saying, “Go on love, take it.”  
  
With sudden eagerness, Buffy grabbed the box and tore into the silver wrapping.  There, nestled against black velvet was a beautiful old necklace – obviously an antique – an emerald adorned with delicate silver filagree and surrounded by four small round diamonds, one on each side.  “Oh.  Oh, it’s beautiful.”  
  
“Was, my . . . well, my mum wore it.  But I think it was from my da’s family.”  His voice was soft, deep with suppressed emotions that she’d grown used to hearing in his tones, though tonight they’d taken on deeper meanings, in light of the gift.  
  
Her eyes were shining with tears when she looked up at him.  “And you’re giving it to me?  It’s. . . oh, it’s precious to you and you shouldn’t be giving it to me.“  
  
His warm hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing gently over her lips.  “Hush, baby.  Yeah, it’s. . . precious, but so are you, love.  So are you.”  
  
Buffy whimpered a bit, then leaned forward to capture his lips with hers.  “Now you open yours.”  
  
Smiling at her, Will tore open the carefully wrapped packages and stared down at the book in front of him.  Buffy whispered, “I figured you probably had something like it, but it’s a second edition. . . printed in 1890.”  Her voice trailed off when he wrapped her tightly in his arms, unable to say anything other than a muffled “Thank you.”  
  
“There’s more, you know.”  She added after a moment, pointing to the smaller package still nestled in the folds of the blanket.  
  
“More?  Sweetheart, this is too much. . . “ Will was shaking his head at her, but Buffy just thumped him playfully on his chest.  
  
“Shuddup.  It’s not.  Everything you’ve done for me. . . I’d give you a lot more if I could.”  She smiled again.  “Now open it.  C’mon.”  
  
Shaking his head at her, Will grabbed the second package and ripped the paper.  “ _Holy bleedin’ fuck!_   Where didya find this?!  Oh, kitten!”    
  
Will whooped in absolute joy, swooping her into his arms, raining kisses across her face as she giggled uncontrollably.  “So you like it?”  She asked him between gusts of laughter.  
  
“Like ‘em?  Are you . . . bloody love ‘em, just like you.”  
  
They both sort of froze at his slip, staring at each other.  Buffy’s eyes misted over a little, then she swallowed visibly.  “Do you. . . mean that?”  
  
Will brushed her hair back, searching her eyes for revulsion or fear.  Finding none, he nodded once.  “Have for a while now, petal.”  He waited a moment, wondering what she was thinking when her small hand reached out to brush his cheek.  
  
Her voice was a mere whisper, “Good, coz so don’t want to feel like this alone.”  
  
“Buffy?”  But she was shaking her head, both hands on his face now.  He brought his hands up to cover hers when she whispered again.  “It is how I feel. . . just . . not sure I can say it yet.”  
  
Will slid his hands around her, fisting one at her nape.  “‘S all right, kitten.  I can wait. . . for you I can wait.”  
  
They both knew he was talking about more than three little words.  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
Every mile that he put between himself and Buffy just made him feel worse.  Compounding that was just how very wrong it felt being apart this Christmas.  _How is this even possible?  You barely knew the chit existed . .  Now tha’s jus’ bloody wrong._ She’d been in his portion of the survey class that sophomores took and she’d caught his eye then.  _Bloody off limits. . . but adorable as hell._  
  
He didn’t want to spend the holiday with Drusilla and Liam and their girls.  Didn’t want to put on a happy face and pretend that his heart wasn’t back in Sunnydale, resting in the hands of a seventeen year old girl.  Will wanted to be home, sneaking whatever moments he could, just to be near her.  He was two exits away from his destination when his cell phone rang.  Lifting it to his ear, Will was greeted with a giggling little girl’s voice, one that always melted his heart.  “Unca Will?  Did you know Santa’s coming?”  
  
He laughed, realizing that being around Dru’s girls would be good for him.  “Yeah, I did, sweetpea.  You’ve been a good girl?”  
  
She giggled again.  “Ahuh.  When you coming?”  
  
“Should be there soon, sweetness.”  
  
Kathy shrieked in his ear.  “Mooooommmmmmyyyy!  He’s almosted here!!”  
  
“Right then, sweetpea, put your Mum on the phone.”  Will was laughing, despite his sudden deafness.  
  
There was a long pause and finally Drusilla’s laughing voice sounded in his ears.  “Hullo, William.”  
  
“Hey, pet.  Next time don’t let halfpint burst m’eardrums.”  He was grinning as he said it, but Will was deadly serious.  
  
“Right, dearie.  How soon before you get here?”  
  
“Bout half an hour.”  
  
Drusilla laughed again.  “See you then.”  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
True to his word, Will got to their house in the allotted time to find the lights blazing and the sound of high-pitched girlish laughter echoing in the darkening night.  Two little faces flashed into view beneath fairy lights and dark curtains and then he could clearly hear their squeals and pattering of feet as he approached the door.  One of the girls flung open the door and both of them were bouncing in the doorway, calling out his name before he got to the bottom step.  
  
Sweeping them up in his arms, Will twirled them around, laughing at their reactions.  
  
Kathleen, older than her sister Darla by a mere eleven months, whispered loudly in his ear.  “Unca Will, we’s getting a ‘perise!”  Little Darla wrapped her hands around his neck, placing a sloppy wet kiss on his cheek.  “Unca Will?  Am I bestest girl?”  
  
Kissing her quickly, Will said, “Sure are my best little girl.”  
  
Another sloppy kiss greeted his statement and Darla whispered “Wuv you, Unca Will.”  
  
“Oh, pet, I love you too.”  Carrying both girls into the living room, Will greeted their parents.  The three of them had practically grown up together, thick as thieves and always in each other’s pockets, until Liam’s parents had emigrated to the States.  Liam had been sixteen, Will was just turned sixteen and Drusilla just a couple of months younger.  Liam and Drusilla had been dating and Dru had been devastated when Liam left, turning to Will out of loneliness and a need for comfort.  It had been real love – only not the kind that took one’s breath away, not the kind Dru and Liam had – and certainly not what he believed he had with Buffy.  
  
Neither of them had suffered a broken heart when their relationship fell apart after three years, Drusilla heading for the States within days to find Liam.  
  
Will went on to a series of relationships with girls he either loved too much or not enough, but as Dru pointed out repeatedly, none of them was his equal.  Liam and Dru got married while they were still in college, doing the Vegas bit, and Kathleen Edith was born right after Dru had finished and Darla Rose followed within the year.  Liam was now a detective with the LAPD and Dru. . .  Will kissed his old girlfriend on the cheek and wondered what she was thinking.  
  
“Hello, Will.”    
  
“Liam, you prat, how’re ya?”  Dumping the little girls onto their feet and shooing them away, Will extended his hand to his oldest friend and one-time rival.  
  
“Doing well.  You?”  Bypassing the hand, Liam pulled the shorter man into his embrace, pounded him once on the back and let him go.  
  
Will started to answer when the girls came careening back into the living room, giggling and shrieking loudly.  
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
  
For once, Willow’s father didn’t object to her spending Christmas eve with the Summers.  Used to slipping out with her mother’s help, Willow was floored when Ira Rosenberg actually agreed to letting her spend the night.  So now the two girls were curled up on the couch, watching Christmas videos and munching on popcorn and candy canes and gingerbread.  
  
Buffy leaned forward to grab another candy cane and the necklace slipped out of her over large black sleep-shirt, catching Willow’s eye.  She said nothing for a few minutes, her mind rapidly discarding various ways to bring up the bauble she spied.  At the next break between discs, Willow blurted out, “That’s a really pretty necklace.  Where didya get it?  Is it from him?”  
  
The blonde’s hand automatically covered the emerald, tucking it back under her shirt.  A light blush bloomed across her features and Buffy smiled.  “Yeah, it’s my Christmas present.”  
  
“Can I see it?”  Willow smiled disarmingly, hoping Buffy would let her get a better glimpse of the pretty piece.  
  
Wordlessly, Buffy lifted the pendant and held it out so her best friend could get a better look at it.  “Wow.”  Willow looked into Buffy’s eyes.  “That’s really . . .  Wow.”  Once more she paused, then gushed, “So it’s like serious, huh?”  
  
“Yeah.”  Buffy felt those butterflies take wing again and she could barely speak for the emotions that were clogging her throat.  “Oh, Wills. . .  I love him so much.”  
  
Willow goggled at her.  “You . . . you love him?”  
  
      
********************************************************************  
  
  
It was just after midnight and, only after numerous threats about Santa and his proposed visit, they had finally gotten the two over-anxious and hyper little girls to sleep.  Drusilla was quietly humming while cleaning up the detritus of two little girls and two much bigger boys, who should have known better.  Liam and Will were outside, bringing in the piles and piles of presents from Santa, when something caught Dru’s attention.  She stopped what she was doing, cocked her head to the side and smiled softly to herself.    
  
A knowing twinkle entered her eyes and she laughed a bit, wondering when she could spring this bit of news on her old friend.  _Oh, William,_ she thought, _you sly dog.  
_  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
Buffy looked up at the clock, frowning a bit.   Willow had fallen asleep on the couch and it had been impossible to move her, so Joyce had just gotten out the sheets and blankets and covered her, finding it easier than trying to move the sleeping girl.  It was now just passed midnight and she was hoping that Will would call, just like he’d promised he would.  She missed him totally, like a piece of her was missing and she hadn’t realized it until now.    
  
This was so hard, being apart from him.  Unable to touch each other, unable to be open about their relationship, she was beginning to feel more isolated than she had, to feel like she was all alone in the world, without any support.  Buffy had never imagined that not having him nearby would be so hard.  But it was worse.  She hugged Mr. Gordo tight, fighting tears, while she stared at the only picture she had of him, his official picture that was in each yearbook for the school.  It was a fairly good picture of him, but it wasn’t him.  It wasn’t enough.  Buffy wanted him here with her, celebrating Christmas.    
  
With her head on her pillow, Buffy stared out into the night, making a Christmas wish.    
  
  
**************************************************************  
  
  
It was sometime after one thirty in the morning when Will finally got settled into the guest room, his duffel bag flung in the corner and his duster slung over the over-stuffed chair Drusilla had placed in the other corner of the room.  He halted at the window, looking out into the starry night, and, despite the hour, reached for his cell phone.  If he knew Buffy, and he was pretty sure that by now he knew her better than anyone, she would be waiting for him to call.  
  
With the phone to his ear, Will dropped down on the bed to unlace his boots.  The phone rang and just before he thought it would switch over to her voice-mail, a very sleepy sounding Buffy answered the phone.  “‘Lo, kitten.”  
  
“Hey.”  He could hear the sleepy pout in her voice and he shook his head.  
  
“Sorry I couldn’t call sooner, but they’ve just now settled in for the night.”  He paused, then before she could say anything, he blurted out, “Miss you so fuckin’ much, goldilocks.”  
  
“Oh, Will.  I miss you too.”  Buffy rolled over onto her back, letting Mr. Gordo fall to the floor. Her free hand drifted down to the necklace he’d given her and she idly played with it.    
  
They both spoke at the same time, their words eerily similar.    
  
“I wish. . .”  
  
“If wishes. . .”  
  
Buffy’s higher sigh echoed his, only he recovered quicker, his voice reaching out to her across the miles.  “Tell me what you’d wish for.”  
  
“I just wish you were here instead of there.”  Her soft sigh captured his attention and Will could almost picture her before him.  He eased back onto the bed, resting against the headboard, one knee bent and the other leg stretched out, imagining her laying beside him.  “So what about your wishes?”  
  
She settled herself more comfortably, plumping the pillows beneath her head.  He chuckled a little and she let the sound wash over her.  “Oh, kitten. . . you know. . . wishes.”  
  
“C’mon, are you afraid to tell me your wishes?”  She teased him, trying to coax him into  again admitting that he missed her.  
  
His voice dropped, the rasped huskiness sending shivers down her spine.  “Sunshine, I’d wish for you here, with me, warm and wet an’ . . .” he stopped, knowing this discussion would only lead to a long sleepless night.  And a very unfulfilled one.  
  
“And?”  Buffy’s suddenly sultry voice had him scrambling for a few seconds, until his equilibrium caught up with him and Will grinned.   _All right, kitten, let’s see how far you wanna take this. . ._  
  
“Hhhmmm,” He pretended to think about what he wished for, for a few seconds, stretching out the anticipation.  “Oh, let’s see, what else would I wish for. . .”  Will shifted a bit, getting more comfortable on the bed, trying to picture her in his mind’s eye.  
  
“Tell me.”  She whispered breathily, the sound shooting right to his cock.  “Please, Will. . .”  
  
“You’d be wearin’ my tee-shirt an’ maybe some pretty pink panties.”  His grin morphed into a leer, but his expression changed when she whispered back, “Um, Will?  How about your tee-shirt and Christmas red panties?”  
  
His groaned response went right through her and emboldened by it, Buffy kept up the assault on his senses.  “So you like the Christmas red?  Will, that’s what I’m . . it’s what I’ve got on right now.  That tee shirt I stole from you and . . .”  
  
“Oh hell, kitten. . .”   Almost of its own volition, Will’s hand snaked down to his waistband, and before he realized it, he’d popped all the buttons on his jeans.  He cleared his throat, barely grinding out, “Yeah. . . red is good too, baby.”  
  
“So. . .” Buffy hesitated, her breath sounding just a tiny bit strained to his ear, then whispering, “What else would you do?”  
  
He was quiet for so long that Buffy thought he’d fallen asleep, but then suddenly he said, “Kitten, just how far do you want to take this right now?”  
  
“What do you mean?”  Buffy was a little confused, not sure what he was asking.  
  
His laugh was deep and rich, but short.  “Sweetheart, I’m sitting here with my. . . bits all danglin’ and if you aren’t ready for this, I need to stop now.”  
  
“Oh.  Oh, Will. . .” she waited a second, trying to decide if she was squicked by what he was saying and when all it did was set off the butterflies, Buffy knew she didn’t want to stop him.  “Will. . . please don’t stop.”  
  
“Oh, baby girl. . . what you do to me.”  He rasped out the words, grinning to himself about her possible expression.  “Kitten, do something for me, yeah?”  
  
“Anything” slipped out of her mouth before she could censor it and his breathing got heavier.  
  
“Got your headset?”  Putting his own thought to action, Will plugged in the hands free and then laid the phone on the bed next to him.  
  
“My headset?  Yeah, why?”  She moved around a bit, then the light must’ve dawned on what he was suggesting.  “Oh. . . _oh_! Yeah.”  
  
He grinned, his eyes focused on a vision of her, spread out and waiting for him.  There was more rustling and then her voice sounded right in his head, her breathing a little heavy.  
  
“Okay,” she giggled softly, confiding, “I’ve never done this before.”  
  
“You sure ‘bout this then?”  He wanted to kick himself for offering her an out, but Buffy wasn’t going to back down now.  _This is a little crazy_ , she thought, _but for him I’ll do anything._  
  
“Will, I’ve already got my panties off. . .”  
  
 _Holy bleedin’ fuck._ “Guess you want to, then.”  He paused, trying to come up with some way to make her more comfortable, when her breathy little voice sounded in his ear.  
  
“Are you comfy?  Still got all your clothes on?”  
  
She’d shocked him a bit, though Will was already way ahead of her.  
  
“Not wearin’ anything but the sheet, princess.  An’ I’m harder than a rock.  Buffy, love. . . slip those tiny hands under tha’ shirt.”  She was quiet, the only sound her little hitching breaths and he rumbled out softly.  “Kitten, need you to talk to me. . . . tell me what you’re doing.”  
  
“Ohhkay. . . . not sure what you want, um, my hands are on my belly under the shirt.”  
 _  
Oh, Christ ‘m gonna have to talk her through all of this this.   Which really, isn’t so bad, now is it?_   “All right love, move those pretty little fingers, yeah, bring one to your nipple . . . play with it a bit.”    
  
She gave a tiny protest, and he started to speak, when her voice breathed out, “Where do you . . . what else should I do?”  
  
“Mmm.  Slip that other hand down, baby girl, brush against those curls for me.”  He waited a few seconds, then whispered, “How’s that feel, baby?  Feels good?”  
  
Her voice was sweet in his ear.  “Yeah.  Will . . . are you?”  
  
“Am I what, baby?”  He stroked his cock, running his fingers up and down his hard length.  “Have I got my fist ‘round my cock wishin’ it was you?  Yeah.”  
  
Those butterflies were in full flight, careening wildly in the confines of her belly, making her breath hitch and dip.  His next barely spoken words pushed her further.  “Listen, baby girl, want you to slide your fingers into your pussy. . . get ‘em nice an’ wet for me.”  
  
She whined out something incoherent, making his cock twitch.  His command was harsh, but soothing at the same time.  “Tell me how you feel, kitten.”  
  
“Oh. . . like. . . it’s soft . . . and warm. . . it’s really warm and wet.  Is it supposed to be this wet?”  
  
Her artless question sent him over and Buffy could hear the affectionate amusement in his voice.  “Only for me, baby.”  
  
“Kay, then this is all your fault.”  
  
“Oh, you _teasin_ ’ me now?”  
  
“Mmmm. . . maybe. . . Will?  Is this what you feel when you kiss me here?”  
  
The hand on his cock sped up, and his words where broken up by harsh gasps and Buffy knew he was as affected as she was.   “Oh _bloody_. . . yeah, kitten, all that. . . . slide those fingers in, c’mon, baby. . . . for me.   Find your clit, angel, c’mon.”  
  
“Thats. . . . oh. . . Will?   _Oh_. . .”  Buffy swirled her fingers over her clit, her breathing no more than mewling little gasps.  “Will. . .”  
  
“Tha’s m’girl. . . faster . . . c’mon.”  He could barely speak, his words little more than grunts as he urged her on, matching her hitching gasps.  
  
“Oh. . . huh.”  
  
“It’s m’mouth on you . . . me. . . c’mon, baby . . . cum for me.”  
  
A soft high pitched whimper hit his ears and Will grunted in satisfaction.  She was panting now, her fingers circling furiously over that tiny nub of flesh, her body arching up off the bed.  “What. . . you. . . Will. . . need. . . can’t. . . . can’t.”  
  
Almost sobbing, Buffy begged him to send her over the edge.  “Baby, cum with me. . . gonna. . . . Buffy. . . . want you. . . faster, c’mon angel-girl . . .   Wanna drink you down. . . feel you around me.”  
  
He couldn’t talk anymore, his own release reducing him to incoherent sounds and deep grunts.  Their breathing hitched together and he rumbled out her name from somewhere deep in his chest as she whimpered, convulsed a little and cried out his name in a hitched sob.  
  
It was long minutes while their breathing returned to normal.  Will finally opened his eyes, then let out a deep breath.  “Kitten?  Buffy?  Baby, talk to me.”  
  
“Will?”  She giggled a bit, then breathed out a question.  “Should I – I’m shaking again.  Is that. . . another?”  
  
A purely masculine grin crossed his features and if Buffy had seen it, she probably would have slapped him.  She thought she was recovering when his deep rumble set off the butterflies again.  “Yeah, sunshine.  Tha’s what happens.”  
  
“So . . . we just wanked together?”  
  
He spluttered out a laugh.  “Oh, baby, you are. . . you could say that, sunshine.”  
  
A giggle escaped her.  “So that’s phone sex?”  Buffy giggled again, then shocked the hell out of him by asking, “Can we do it again?”  
  
Will groaned deeply, rasping out, “Whenever you’re ready sunshine.”  
  
And Buffy smiled into her phone and asked sweetly, “How ‘bout right now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from one of the quotes (bleah, it’s a Mariah Carey song but it fit).


	18. I’ll have a blue Christmas without you.

_**Eighteenth.  I’ll have a blue Christmas without you.  
  
I'll have a Blue Christmas without you  
I'll be so blue thinking about you  
Decorations of red on a green Christmas tree  
Won't be the same dear, if you're not here with me  
  
I'll have a Blue Christmas that's certain  
And when that blue heartache starts hurtin'  
You'll be doin' all right, with your Christmas of white,  
But I'll have a blue, blue Christmas  
    Billy Hayes and Jay Johnson  
      
      
I'll be home for Christmas  
You can count on me  
Please have snow and mistletoe  
and presents on the tree  
Christmas Eve will find me  
Where the love light gleams  
I'll be home for Christmas  
If only in my dreams  
    Kim Gannon and Walter Kent **_  
  
  
  
  
Will woke far too early for most normal humans, to find two little sprites bouncing on his bed, their voices very soft.  One of the little angels pressed her mouth to his ear, whispering, “Unca Will, are we quiet?  Mommy says we gotta be quiet til it’s time to waked up.”  
  
He rolled over, getting an armful of little girl, Kathy tumbling over his chest while Darla sat on his legs, kicking her feet off the mattress.  “We was quiet as mouses, right?”  
  
There was no way he could tell those two to go away and let him sleep, much as he’d like to, but house rules said that no one opened presents until everyone was awake.  No doubt these two had been waiting long enough.  He groaned internally, sitting up.  “All right, you two, ‘m up.  Go tell your mum.”  
  
Darla scrambled off the bed first, hitting the door and the sound barrier at the same time.  “Daddy!  Unca Will’s awaked!”  
  
Kathy rolled over, her little face just inches from his.  “Unca Will?  I gots a present for you, come see!”  She tried tugging him from the bed, barely budging him.  
  
“Go on, poppet, I’ll be right there.”  Will watched her scurry from the bed, her fluffy slippers almost tripping her up as she practically ran from his room, chasing after Darla.  
  
Will rolled over onto his side, squinting at the bedside clock.  It was barely six and he’d gotten little over two hours sleep.  He’d kept Buffy on the phone until four when it was apparent they were both in danger of falling asleep.  
  
It had been one of the best conversations he’d ever had, phone sex aside, and he hadn’t wanted to hang up.  He’d promised her that when the holidays were over they would figure out some way to spend more than a few stolen moments together.  
  
Darla’s shrieks sounded in the hallway as Liam scooped her up after chasing her from their bedroom.  Passing his opened door with the little girl hanging off his shoulder, Liam grumbled, “I’m up, Will, time to haul yer arse outta bed.”  
  
His daughter’s outraged giggled ratted him out.  “Mommy, Daddy sayed a bad word.  Get soap!”  
  
Liam slapped her butt playfully, “I thought you were on my side.”  
  
“Mommy promist me ice cream.”  She wriggled, trying to get out of his arms, calling out, “Unca Will, Santa came!”  
  
Drusilla passed his door, her long hair falling down her back and a grin crossing her features, “C’mon, Will, come see what prezzies we’ve got.”  
  
Grumbling half-heartedly and praying that he’d be able to get a nap at some point, Will got out of bed.  
  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
  
It was nearly noon when she finally made her way downstairs only to find that her mother was the only one awake.  Willow was still sacked out comfortably on the couch.  
  
“Merry Christmas.”  Joyce barely looked up from her coffee when Buffy entered the kitchen.  
  
“Yup.  Merry Christmas to you too, Mom.”  She headed straight for the refrigerator for the grapefruit and orange juices.  
  
“Buffy, have you given any thought to the Finns’ offer?”  
  
 _Are you fucking joking?  It’s Christmas morning and she wants to talk about Riley?  And . . . augh!  She’s impossible._   Buffy slammed the refrigerator shut.  “You wanna talk about this today?”  
  
“Why not?  What’s wrong with talking about this now?”  Joyce stared at her daughter over the rim of her coffee cup, a set look on her face.  
  
“Coz, it’s Christmas.  You know peace on earth and all that?  Can we talk about this some other time?”  Buffy leaned against the counter, unfazed by her mother’s expression.  
  
“No, I think we should talk about it now.  You’ve been avoiding me since the other day and you don’t ever want to talk about this.  Now’s as good a time as any.”  
  
Buffy was shaking her head.  “Nope, Mom.  Not in the mood to discuss this and besides, Willow is still sleeping on the couch.”    
  
“Buffy, we need to talk about this.  You can’t keep putting it off.  I have a feeling that this is going to be their final offer and then you won’t have anything.”  Joyce refilled her mug,  her jaw clenching as the argument escalated.  
  
“You know something. Mom, this isn’t the time to talk about it.  It’s Christmas, and I’m trying to keep happy thoughts in my head.”  Adding silently, _and you really aren’t helping, coz Riley is so not a happy thought_.  “So can we please talk about this later?”  
  
“I really want to talk about it now.”  Placing the mug on the counter, Joyce turned to face her only child, crossing her arms over her chest.  
  
“Mom.  I’m not getting into this with you.  Not today.  We can talk about it tomorrow.  It’s not like anything is gonna get finalized today anyway.  It’s a holiday.  Remember?”  Buffy faced off against her mother, her jaw just as set and her stance just as belligerent.  
  
“We could at least be ready to accept first thing in the morning.”    
  
“No.  If you want an answer that’s it.  I’m not accepting.”  Buffy put her half finished glass of orange juice mixed with grapefruit juice down, unable to finish it because of the nerves tightening her belly.  “If you keep pushing, Mom, I’m just going to keep saying no.”  
  
“You can’t do that.  You aren’t an adult and I can accept the offer on your behalf.”  Joyce pushed herself away from the counter, reaching for Buffy’s arm.  
  
Buffy pulled away from her mother, moving toward the hallway.  “Do that, Mom and I’ll leave.  I won’t take their money.”  
  
“Don’t speak to me in that tone of voice, young lady.  You’ll do what I tell you.  If I think this offer is something we should accept then you’ll accept it.”  Joyce closed the distance between them, bringing up her hand as if to slap Buffy.  
  
Grabbing her hand, stopping her mother’s forward motion, Buffy said, “You really don’t want to do this, Mom.  I asked you not to bring it up now, and you didn’t let it go.  I can’t talk about this right now.  And stop pushing me.”  
  
Without another word, Buffy headed up the stairs to her room, fighting the tears of anger and frustration that were threatening.  
  
Willow watched her go, sympathy flooding her features, but when Joyce emerged from the kitchen a few moments later, the redhead was feigning sleep.  
  
  
***************************************************************  
  
  
He and Liam both managed to nap in the early afternoon, falling asleep in the chairs, while the girls played with their dolls and tea-sets and dress up clothes quietly in front of the tree.  Drusilla watched the two of them, a small smile playing about her lips.  Oh, she had news for Will, news he probably wasn’t going to like very much, at least not now.  Tilting her head, Dru listened to something only she could hear and, with a last look at the girls, she sped off to her bedroom.  
  
When he woke up, the girls were playing quietly and Drusilla was nowhere to be found, but Will had thoght he’d distinctly heard his name being called, but he just didn’t . . . if he had been more asleep, he would’ve sworn he was dreaming because the voice sounded like Buffy’s.  
  
Shaking his head, Will got up and wandered into the kitchen, to find Drisilla sitting at the table, a bunch of cards strewn about the table.  Taking one look at the cards spread before her, Will knew she wasn’t playing solitaire.   Drawn to the table, Will bypassed the refrigerator to see what she was doing.  Drusilla motioned him to sit, and then scooped up the cards and handed them to him.    
  
“Shuffle them.”  
  
Expertly shuffling the cards, Will stared at the almost exotic features of his former girlfriend.  “So, pet, what’s new?”  
  
She smiled a bit, shook her head, saying gently, “Let’s see what the cards say before I tell you what’s going on with us, okay?  Cut the deck.”  
  
“All right.“  He laid out three piles of cards, then stacked them up again.  When he was finished with that, she took the deck from him and she said a brief prayer under her breath and she laid out seven cards.  Taking one look at them, Drusilla’s smiled widened and she began speaking.    
  
“So, William, you’ve met someone.  There’s lots of . . .” she pointed to the second card, the eight of swords.  “Things are very rough for her right now, she’s got some hard things she’s dealing with and nothing’s going very easily for her is it?”    
  
He was shaking his head, murmuring under his breath something that Drusilla didn’t hear. She tapped a long fingernail against the next card, a knowing glint in her eyes.  “So she’s captured your heart and it looks like you’ve captured hers.”   When he didn’t speak, to either confirm or deny her vision, Drusilla continued the reading.  She glanced back to the first card and blurted out the question before she thought to censor it.  “Is she pregnant?”  
  
Without waiting for him to confirm that, Dru nodded her head, “She is.  Oh, Will . . . what are you going to do?”  
  
Will got up from the table, pacing the length of the kitchen, avoiding her gaze.  He wondered just how much he could confide in her and, suddenly giving in, knowing he needed to talk to someone before he exploded, William leaned against the counter.  He started talking, his eyes never leaving Drusilla’s face.  “She is pregnant, but it’s not mine.  I haven’t touched her, not that way, not yet.  The baby’s father dumped her as soon as he found out and she’s . . .  Dru, pet, you need to promise me something here.”  
  
She got up from the table, leaving the cards laid out, and stood next to him.  Her hand was on his folded arms, and her mothering instinct took over at the look on his face.  “Talk to me, Will, tell me what’s wrong.”  
  
“Nothin’s wrong.”  He laughed, then said honestly, “Not much is bloody right either.”  He ran a hand through his hair, dislodging the curls into wild disarray.  “Your promise, Dru, of silence, before I go on.”  
  
“You know I’ll keep . . . I won’t say a word.   So tell me.”  He laid his head down on her shoulder, seeking comfort from her nearness, then straightened up and averted his eyes from her intense gaze.    
  
“She’s only seventeen.  One of my students.”  Drusilla made no comment, merely waiting for him to continue, but she did lay her hand on his clenched hand offering silent comfort.  “Always thought she was bloody adorable, but never did anythin’ but look.  ‘Til I found her wandering about a cemetery, crying her eyes out an’ lost.  She’d just found out about the baby, hadn’t even told the father or her mum.  And when she told the boy, he flipped on her.  Damn near assaulted her and then dumped her.  Her mother is never home, always traveling.  And her bloody father. . . she told him over Thanksgiving and the fucking bastard threw her out of his house.  She called me to come get her, because she’d been out on the street for almost a full day.”   He closed his eyes as renewed anger flooded through his body.  A muscle ticked in his jaw and Drusilla knew the hold on his temper was tenuous at best.  
  
He blew out a breath, mentally counting down, trying to get his temper under control.  Dru ran a gentle hand over his chin, drawing his face to look at her.  “Do you love her?”  She looked into his eyes, finding the truth in those incredible blue eyes. “Never could lie well, silly boy.  You do love her.  What are you going to do?”  
  
“Soon as she’s old enough, I’m gonna marry her.”  There it was.  He’d finally said it out loud, admitted it to someone other than himself.  “Not gonna let her go, Dru.  She’s mine.”  
  
“Have you told her this?”  Drusilla left his side, filling the kettle, her mind trying to come up with something to say to him about all this.  
  
“Not yet.  Christ, she’s only seventeen.  Still in school.  Still in my bloody classroom.  Can’t . . .  Don’t want to,” he ran his hand through his hair again, almost pulling some out.  “Could get into a world of trouble over this.  We’re already walkin’ a fine line.”  
  
“So you aren’t being foolish then.  I was beginning to worry when you said she was only seventeen.”  Drusilla faced him, her eyes full of caring and concern.  “Have you slept with her yet?”  
  
“Slept, yes.  Had sex, no.”    He paused, then paced around a bit.  “She’s not ready yet.  Besides, we can’t. . . I won’t do that until she’s eighteen.  ‘m not a complete idiot.”  
  
Her light laughter filled the kitchen.  “Glad to hear that.  You do know the dangers involved.”  
  
It wasn’t a question, then he hadn’t expected it to be one.  He trusted Drusilla to speak her mind and to tell it straight, and not sugar coat things.  She might go off on how the universe would see things right and how little birdies or pixies or some such had told her in a vision, but she wouldn’t ever lie to him or withhold her opinion.    
  
“Yeah, which is why I’m not pushing her.”    
  
“All right then.  You’ll just have to trust the stars that it will be all right in the end.”  Dru leaned over the table, once more glancing down at the cards laid out on the table.  While the beginning cards weren’t overtly “happy” cards, there was the possibility that it was all temporary, and there, at the end were the signs she’d been looking for.  The King of Cups, the Empress and the very last card was the Ace of Cups.  _So there it is, you, her, happiness and lots of babies._   One final glimpse at all the cards and Drusilla debated with herself about what to tell him.  She’d never lied to him before and the upcoming events weren’t going to be easy.  Glancing at him from beneath lowered eyelids, Drusilla read the agitation and upset covering him like a shroud and she made her decision.  
  
“Will?  Come look at something.”  She pointed down at the cards, running her hand in the air over them.  “See these?  Those are the good news, that things will eventually be settled and you’ll both be okay.  But these are what you have to get through first.”  She pointed to the swords, and he nodded, not necessarily understand the meaning of each card, but going by the pictures, he could guess.  
  
“So, it’s going to be worse before it gets better, yeah?”    
  
“Pretty much.  Just keep faith, Will, everything will work out in the end.”    
  
“I have to believe that, Dru.  It’s the only thing keepin’ me sane.”  
  
      
***************************************************************  
  
  
They’d spent most of the day avoiding each other, neither one of them willing to budge and Buffy firmly resolved not to speak about anything that had money or Finn in the conversation.  She managed to avoid Willow’s questions, promising her she would talk about it when she wasn’t so angry about the whole situation, but she couldn’t promise when that was going to be.  
  
She couldn’t believe how incredibly insensitive her mother was.  _What kind of mom brings up stuff like this on freaking Christmas?  What the hell had she been thinking?_   Buffy shook her head, unable to figure her mother out.  Apparently she couldn’t get past the idea of all that money, not caring about what Buffy was trying to say, or the point she was trying to make.  
  
It wasn’t like she wanted anything to do with Riley Finn anymore.  _I’d be a clam if I never saw or heard his name ever again.  But I don’t have that luxury.  Bleah.  So not your fault, baby._ Buffy cupped her hand over the growing bulge of her belly.   All her clothes still fit,  pretty much, except for some of the skimpier outfits, but getting bummed about that was silly, since there was a whole list of things to wig about.  Staring at the bump in the mirror, she turned sideways and flattened her shirt, pulling it tight against her skin. N _ope, not big at all.  Just a teeny-tiny little lumpy-bumpy.  Hello, baby.  Mommy’s looking at you._   She giggled a bit, then collapsed on her bed.    
  
Willow had gone home an hour ago and she had been sitting up in her room, trying not to think about Riley, or her mom or money, but it was difficult.  It had been almost two months since she’d had a conversation with him and she finally had enough of the reminders of him around her room.  There were pictures taped to her mirror and gifts and stolen clothes and notes and little toys that he’d given her and she was sick of looking at them, or having them around.  Grabbing her wastebasket, Buffy ripped down the pictures, tossing them in, then moved around the room, gathering everything.  
  
Within minutes of her almost frenzied attack the wastebasket was filled and she needed something bigger to hold the remains of her failed relationship.  She was going to be ruthless, cut him out of her life completely, and just dump his stuff somewhere.  Running down the stairs to find something bigger, Buffy scrounged around and finally located a box in the basement.  Hauling the empty box up the stairs took her only a few moments, and despite some banging, she managed to get away without her mother’s interference.  
  
She never realized just how much stuff he’d given her, from stupid little toys to expensive jewelry, plus the notes and cards they’d passed back and forth in the hallway and Buffy just threw it all in the box.  It was all garbage and she wanted no reminders of Riley Finn anymore.    
  
Throwing in a tee-shirt, Buffy held onto the cards and letters, trying to figure out how to get rid of them.  _Oohh, I know._   Dumping all that into the wastebasket, she raced for the stairs.  Breezing through the dark kitchen, Buffy grabbed the automatic lighter for the grill, heading directly out the back door.  She opened the barbeque, removed the grill and tossed all the papers inside.  Quickly, before she could second guess herself, Buffy held the automatic lighter to loose piece of paper, and watched while the flame caught and held.    
  
Stepping back away from the fire, Buffy watched as the flames flared high and burned.    
  
 _Goodbye, Riley.  Goodbye._    
  
The flames must have blazed too high, because while she watched, her eyes intent on the orange glow, the back door flew open and Joyce yelled at her from the back porch.  “Buffy, what are you doing?”  
  
Without turning her head to look at her, Buffy said, “I’m getting rid of some garbage, Mom.  Don’t worry about it.”  
  
“What?  Don’t worry about it?  What are you burning?”  Joyce started down the steps, the small kitchen fire extinguisher in her hands.  “Buffy, move away from the grill.”  
  
“I’m fine.  It’s gonna burn out in a couple of minutes anyway.”  And even as she watched, the flames started going down, the ashes of her childhood blowing away on the slight breeze.  
  
Her mother dropped the fire extinguisher, a strange expression on her face as she watched her daughter stare at the fire.  “Buffy, what was that?”  
  
The fire had burned out and there was nothing left, mere curled and burned pieces of paper in the bottom of the barbeque.  Buffy put the grills back on, then closed the top.  “Just papers and stuff that I don’t want any more.”  
  
Joyce looked at her, noting the lack of emotion in her eyes, but the slight track of tears on her cheek made a mockery of the stoic expression.  As Buffy walked passed, Joyce held out her arm, slowing her movement.  “Buffy?  What was all that?”  
  
“Like I said, Mom, it was notes and cards that I don’t want any more.  Nothing important.”  Buffy shook off her hold, heading toward the house.  
  
Finally catching on a bit, Joyce followed her inside, asking quietly, “Do you want to talk about it?”  
  
“No, Mom.  I just wanted to get rid of the garbage.”  
  
Without any further explanation, Buffy went back up the stairs to her bedroom.  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
The box was still sitting in the middle of her bedroom when she went to bed that night.  Buffy couldn’t decide what to do with the clothes or the stuffed animals.  She did know one thing though, she wanted no more reminders of Riley or their time together hanging around.  That part of her life was done, over with and very much a part of her past.  The only reminder she was willing to have was the baby, though in her heart, this was just her baby, and Riley had no right to make any demands or decisions regarding the two of them.  There was really only one thing she wanted from him.  And that wasn’t so much the money but the acknowledgment that he had some responsibility also.  In the back of her mind she knew her thoughts were contradictory in a way, but she didn’t care.  Riley should take some – maybe not responsibility –  he should at least admit that the baby was his.  He wasn’t even doing that.    
  
She had just gotten out of the shower and her hair was still wrapped in a towel when her cell phone rang.  Glancing at the time, she figured it was way to early to be Will and it had to be either Willow or Xander.   
  
Her insides melted when she heard Will’s voice and Buffy sighed into the phone.  “Hey.”  
  
“Hey yourself, kitten.  How was your day?”  
  
“Pretty okay.  Mom decided she wanted to wig on me about something, and we almost had a screaming match over it, but we didn’t.”  She fiddled with the edge of the towel covering her from armpit to mid-thigh, wondering when she could tease him with what she wasn’t wearing.  
  
“Fighting about anything in particular?”  He had a pretty good idea of what it might be, but he figured he’d ask anyway.  
  
“About the money.  They upped the offer.”  She’d told him everything during one of their cemetery meetings and Will agreed with her about making Riley pay monthly.  
  
“Ah, and she’s trying to get you to change your mind.”    
  
“Pretty much.”  She hesitated, then blurted out, “Really don’t want to talk about this tonight.  How was your day?”  
  
“Was good.  The girls were adorable, even though they woke me up just after six this morning.”  He chuckled when she finally giggled, picturing him being all rumpled and sexy early in the morning.  
  
“I miss you Will.  A lot.”  Her voice dropped to a whisper and he could almost see the sad expression in her eyes.  
  
“Me too, sweetheart.  Kept thinking about you all day.”  He settled down onto the bed, shifting so that the pillows were bunched behind him.  The tension between them was thick, and he couldn’t think of a way to break it, torn between what he wanted and what he thought she needed.  
  
Buffy wasn’t comfortable.  The towel was wet and her head was heavy from trying to balance the towel and the phone at the same time.  She shifted, nearly dropping the phone and said, “Will, I need to put the phone down, my towel is falling off.”  
  
“Towel?”  
  
“I just got out of the shower.”    
  
And the tension was gone.  “Did you now.”  
  
Her breath hitched as she answered him.  “Yeah.  I’m, uh, I haven’t dried off yet.”  
  
“Oh _fuck_ , baby. . .”   He breathed heavily through his nose, inhaling sharply.  “So you’re all wet, are you?”  
  
“Yeah.”  Her voice took on the tones he’d coaxed from her . . . _was it just last night?_  
  
“Will?  I wish you were here. . .”  
  
And just like that he was lost.


	19. A storm is swelling.

**_Nineteenth.  A storm is swelling.  
  
Trouble me, disturb me with all your cares and your worries.  
Trouble me on the days when you feel spent.  
Why let your shoulders bend underneath this burden when my back is sturdy and  
strong?  
Trouble me.  
  
Speak to me, don't mislead me, the calm I feel means a storm is swelling;  
There's no telling where it starts or how it ends.  
Speak to me, why are you building this thick brick wall to defend me when your  
silence is my greatest fear?  
Why let your shoulders bend underneath this burden when my back is sturdy and  
strong?  
Speak to me.  
  
Let me have a look inside these eyes while I’m learning.  
Please don't hide them just because of tears.  
Let me send you off to sleep with a "there, there, now stop your   
turning and tossing."  
Let me know where the hurt is and how to heal.  
  
Spare me? don't spare me anything troubling.  
Trouble me, disturb me with all your cares and your worries.  
Speak to me and let our words build a shelter from the storm.  
Lastly, let me know what I can mend.  
There's more, honestly, than my sweet friend, you can see.  
Trust is what I’m offering if you trouble me.  
    Trouble me, Dennis Drew and Natalie Merchant  
_**  
  
  
Two days after Christmas, Buffy had talked Xander and Willow into helping her get rid of the box containing Riley’s stuff.  Together the three of them had wrestled the box into the back of Xander’s car and then piled into the car.   Glancing into the rearview mirror, Xander asked, “So, Buffster, where to?”  
  
“Riley’s house.”  She stared him down, unafraid to meet his eyes.  
  
“Are you sure?  Why do you wanna go there?”  Xander had swung around to look at her, his expression clearly confused.    
  
Willow was shaking her head, muttering under her breath, “So not good.  Why do you wanna talk to him?  He’s a big poopyhead.  What are you gonna do when you see him?  This is not good.  Can’t we wait until like never?”  
  
Buffy was shaking her head at both of them.  “Guys, not going to talk to him at all.  Don’t wanna even see him.  We’re just gonna do a drive by, I swear.”  
  
“This is a bad idea.”  Xander turned around and put the car in gear, despite his misgivings.  
  
“Trust me guys, I know what I’m doing.”    The two in the front shared a skeptical look, though neither one said anything.    
  
Xander stopped the car half a block away from Riley’s, once more asking Buffy if she was sure she wanted to do this.  When Buffy responded by saying simply, “Keep going, Xand,” he did.  
  
Just as they were passing the Finn’s house, Buffy looked at the box of stuff and an idea formed in her head.  “Hey, stop the car.”  
  
“Oh no, no, no.  Buffy, this is really not good.  Coz, look all the cars and that means _someone_ is home and you don’t want to talk to _someone_ and really, this is such a bad idea.”   Willow was babbling, waving her hands like crazy as Buffy slipped from the backseat.    
  
“Wills, I need to do this.”  Buffy leaned back into the car, grabbing one end of the box, pulling it toward her.  Xander finally caught on, and with a calming word to Willow, he got out of the car to help Buffy with the box.  She shot him a grateful look. “Thanks.”    
  
The two of them dumped the contents of the box on Riley’s front lawn, and Buffy kicked some of the stuff, then marched over to the front door.  She rang the bell twice, then without waiting for someone to answer, turned her back on the door and walked slowly back to where Xander waited in the middle of the lawn.  Her smile got wider the closer she got to him and he couldn’t help the laughter that just seeing her smile caused.  
  
He was nearly doubled over with it, between the look in Buffy’s eyes and the insane babbling coming from Willow and then, when the front door was flung open and Riley’s shouted outrage sounded in the air, Xander finally lost it.  He staggered back to his car, convulsing with laughter.  Completely ignoring the shouts and Riley’s looming presence behind her, Buffy passed Xander and got into the back of his car.    
  
Riley was yelling, his face bright red, inches away from Xander’s, and he appeared  all set to get into a fight.  Xander, however, wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.  He  straightened away from the car and shaking his head at Riley’s attitude, he circled around him and, just like Buffy, got into the car without a word.  
  
They drove off to the sight of Riley standing in the middle of the street, yelling at the top of his lungs.  The three in the car shared a look and then exploded into giggles.  
  
  
****************************************************************  
  
  
She was beginning to really hate her mother.  It was sad to admit that to herself, but really, Buffy was slowly coming to the realization her mother wasn’t always a nice person.  And sometimes she was downright nasty and mean.  They’d spent the days following Christmas doing nothing but fighting about the money and what Buffy was going to do once the baby arrived.    
  
The only bright spot in her whole vacation had been the nightly phone calls from Will.  He’d called her every night, usually no later than midnight and they spend hours talking to each other.  Okay, so not all of it was spent _talking_ , at least not coherently, but Buffy figured that counted anyway since they sometimes did use words.      
  
So other than that moment when she’d dumped everything of Riley’s back on his front lawn and the phone calls from Will, this Christmas vacation had sucked.  Literally.  Which explained in a way, why she was looking forward to school starting again.  
  
Her mother was going out for New Year’s, and she was supposed to go to Willow’s but Buffy wasn’t feeling so good.  She hadn’t felt good all day, napping from midmorning until early afternoon and that still hadn’t helped much.  Buffy was currently hunched over the toilet, her stomach clenching with debilitating cramps.  Nothing was staying down and today was the worst she’d ever felt.  

  
The mashed potatoes she’d eaten earlier had long since vacated her stomach and there was nothing she even wanted to be near, except one.  But she’d promised herself, when he’d told her he wasn’t going to be in Sunnydale for the holidays, that she wasn’t going to call him and beg him to come home.  No matter how much she wanted him too.  Right now she wanted to be able to crawl into his arms and rest her head against his chest.  To curl up in his arms whenever she wanted to, to feel his strong hands cupping her cheek or brushing over her hair.  Buffy wanted. . . she wanted to be beside him out in the open.  No hiding.  No pretending that this wasn’t real.  
  
She leaned back against the tub, putting her head down on the top ledge, breathing heavily through her nose.  Her mind focused on images of Will and what she wanted for the future.  She loved him.  She could admit it to herself, even if she wasn’t quite ready to say the words out loud, but she wanted to show him.  Buffy wanted to give hm everything she could, everything he wanted.  
  
Finally, after long minutes trying to control her breathing, her belly calmed and Buffy was able to stumble from the bathroom into her room.  Dropping onto her bed, she closed her eyes and pulled Mr. Gordo and Will’s shirt into her arms and settled into sleep.  
  
  
**************************************************************  
  
  
For the first time in five years, Will wasn’t enjoying himself at Liam’s and Drusilla’s New Year’s Eve party.  By his own choice, he was without a date, and instead of circulating his way though the rest of the guests, Will was sitting in the kitchen alone.  
  
More than one of Liam’s fellow cops or their wives had tried dislodging him from his perch, but Will wasn’t. . . he’d tried to get into the spirit, tried just going with the flow and having a good time, but he couldn’t make it work.  He missed her.  Times like this he felt like half a person, without his arm or . . . some other part of him that was vital, something that kept him going.  _How the hell did this happen so quickly?_ He’d never wanted to spend every waking moment with one person before, not ever.  None of the girls he’d dated had ever affected him the way she did with just a smile.  Or worse, a tear.    
  
She wasn’t the most beautiful of all his girlfriends, then that wasn’t what drew him to her, although she was absolutely adorable and he could spend hours just watching emotions play over her features.  No, it wasn’t her looks that had drawn him in. . . it was her.  Everything about her.  Her smile, her tears, her strength, her weakness. . .  her tiny little hands . . .  The tilt of her head when she was intent.  Her scent.  The silkiness of her skin.  There wasn’t a part of her that he didn’t . . . love.  Will closed his eyes, fighting his sudden need to be near her.  
  
 _Yeah, right, you bleedin’ jackass.  Sudden?  Nothin’ sudden about this.  Been needin’ her for days only now you’re willing to admit it._ He jumped visibly when a soft hand touched his arm and he opened his eyes to see Drusilla watching him intently.    
  
“All right, Will?”  The concern in her voice was his undoing.  
  
“No.  ‘M not all right, pet.”  He shook his head, trying to deny his own emotions.  “Can’t get her out of m’head tonight.”  
  
Drusilla moved away, getting ice for her drink.  “What’s wrong?”  
  
“Christ, love, I wish I knew.”  He looked away from her steady gaze, unwilling to let her see just how upset he was.  Blinking away the tears, Will growled in agitation.  “Just feels like part of me is missin’.  Like I can’t get a deep breath b’cause she’s not here with me.  An’ I feel like a bloody git for feelin’ this way.”  
  
Slowly Drusilla put her glass down, trying to compose an answer that wouldn’t make him shy away from her.  “Will, what you’re feeling isn’t,” she paused, for once at a loss for words.  “It’s how I felt when Liam left, when his parents took him away.  And I’m sorry now, for using you and turning to you but I was just so lost and alone.  It felt like my heart had been ripped from my chest.”  
  
“Weren’t using me, pet, we were using each other.  I missed him too, you know.  Was m’bloody best friend.”  He finally turned to look at her and when she saw the tears in his eyes, Drusilla reacted.  Pulling him into her embrace, she let him rest his head on her shoulder.  
  
“Oh, dear heart, don’t. . .” soothing him, she pitched her voice low so that no one could hear them.  “Now you know, Will. . .  She’s all over you, you’re covered with her and you don’t feel right without her.  Go on upstairs and call your girl.”  Lifting his head away from her, she kissed his forehead, then said, “Give her my love, will you?”  
  
Nodding as he moved away from her arms, Will wiped his eyes, looking for all the world like a lonely, lost little boy.  Her hand on his arm stopped him from leaving the room.  “And Will?  No matter what, do not leave here tonight.”  
  
“Dru?”  His voice was thick with unshed tears, but he heard the warning, “What is it?”  
  
“Promise me, you won’t leave until the morning.  It’s not. . .” Her eyes took on a far-away look and she was no longer really in the room with him.  “Not safe to leave.”  
  
It had been a long time since he’d seen that particular look or heard that particular ghostly tone in her voice, though he’d learned the hard way not to ignore it.    
  
“Promise.”  
  
“Yeah, pet, I promise.”  
  
Drusilla let him go without another word.  
  
  
****************************************************************  
  
  
Two hours later, Will was regretting his promise to Drusilla not to leave.    
  
He’d gone almost directly upstairs to his room after leaving her, intent on calling Buffy and spending the rest of the night talking to her.  Which is precisely what he’d done.  What he hadn’t planned on was the reaction of his girlfriend when he called.  
  
She was crying, had been crying for most of the phone call, when she wasn’t telling him to hold on because she needed to puke.  Instead of lying on their respective beds, just talking, Will was up, pacing the floor, while Buffy was sobbing in his ear.    
  
“Sweetheart.  Please, take a deep breath and try to calm down.”  Her hiccuped breathing sounded loud, and he swore he could almost hear her head shake.    
  
“I’m trying.  It’s hard.  I feel like shit and I can’t stop . . .” Buffy whined a little, which just edged his agitation higher.  He was practically stomping across the floor, caught between Drusilla’s warning and Buffy’s need, with nowhere to go but within the four walls.  He felt like every nerve was on edge, his insides being gutted and broiled and he knew he was clenching his teeth, though he couldn’t make himself relax.  
  
His back was to the door, his attention focused intently on listening to his girl weeping and Will missed it completely when Drusilla slipped into the room behind him.  
  
Her hand on his back had him jumping almost out of his skin, but her soft words and concerned expression mollified him a bit.  She held out her hand for the phone and he reluctantly turned it over to her.  
  
“Buffy?”    
  
“Who’s this?”  Belligerent wariness filled her and Buffy forgot what she’d been about to say to him when the unknown female voice sounded in her ear.  “Who are you?”  
  
A soft sigh that ended on a little laugh escaped from Drusilla.  “He did tell you about me, didn’t he?  It’s Drusilla, sweetling.”    
  
“His old girlfriend?”  The wariness got more pronounced and Dru relented.    
  
“Very _old_ girlfriend, dearie.  I’m an old married lady now.  Not good enough for the likes of our sweet William.”  She laughed, sticking her tongue out at the subject of her conversation.  “So tell me, little pixie, why our prince is all growly and upset.”  
  
Buffy sniffled, then launched into a litany of why she wasn’t happy.  Dru listened, not once interrupting until Buffy had stopped crying and was talking calmly.  It didn’t take very long, since all Drusilla did was listen and not try to talk her out of her mood or cut her off.  She waited until the words were trickling down to a standstill, instead of the torrent they’d started out as, and she finally said, “Just so you know, dearie, the first months of pregnancy are horrible.  Everything inside is topsy-turvy and there’s no one to explain why.  When you’re feeling better, you’ll have to come have a tea party with the girls and I.  We’d love to have you, princess, and you can bring Mr. Grouchy with you.”  
  
From where he was standing, Will could hear the pain and grief leaving her voice and when Dru extended the invitation to come and visit, he swore he could see her smile.  Drusilla drifted closer, letting him listen to their next exchange.  “You should know, dearie, that the girls insist on dressing up for tea, so you’ll need to find a very big hat.”  
  
Her tentative laughter sounded softly and the tension running through his muscles eased.  They traded a few more words, but Will hadn’t paid attention, so he was briefly startled when Dru handed him back the phone and waltzed from the room, all the while humming some Disney tune under her breath.  
  
“Hello, love.”   
  
“She sounds nice, Will.”    
  
He laughed, thinking of all the times she’d nearly killed him, and said “Only sometimes, sunshine, the rest of the time she’s a bloody nightmare.”  
  
  
****************************************************************  
  
  
She was running late.  Too late.  And because she was running late, the entire world was conspiring against her.  Buffy had woken up late and been unable to get up right away because the nausea had returned with a vengeance.  She’d spent too much time huddled over the toilet both before and after her shower.  It had taken almost all her willpower to drag herself downstairs and as she was getting something to drink, Joyce decided that was a good time to start in again about the money.  
  
“Have you thought any more about the Finns’ offer?”  Buffy leaned her head against the refrigerator door, exhaustion and defeat flooding her spirit.  
  
“Mom.  I really don’t feel good.  Can we not do this?”  
  
“Buffy.”  Joyce slammed her cup down on the counter, her temper gone. “No.  We are not going to do this later.  We are going to discuss this now.  And you are going to listen to me.”  
  
“Why should I listen to you, Mom?  You don’t ever wanna listen to me.  You don’t give a damn about what I think or what I want.  So you know what, Mom?  I don’t care what you think or want either.”  Buffy faced off with her mother, neither woman willing to budge.  
  
“Young lady, you need to change your attitude.  You will listen to me and we will contact the Finns to accept their offer.”  She was wagging a finger in Buffy’s face and her daughter finally snapped.  She pushed away her finger, snarling and shaking with anger.  
  
“My attitude?  I’m not the one setting down impossible rules and it’s always do as I say not as I do.  God, Mom, you are such a bitch!”    
  
Joyce loomed over her, her face inches away from Buffy.  “Don’t you speak to me like that.  I’m your mother, young lady, and you will treat me with respect.”  
  
“Yeah sure, Mom, whatever.  I’m going to school.”  Buffy started to walk away, when Joyce grabbed her upper arm, swinging her around to face her.  
  
“We are not done her, missy.  Don’t you dare walk away.”    
  
Pulling her arm out of Joyce’s bruising grasp, Buffy snapped. She pushed her away, knocking her mother back against the counter and she stood there, gasping and shaking with hurt and anger.  “Leave me alone.  I can’t stay here and talk about this at all, Mom, I have to go pretend to be normal in school.”  
  
Joyce reacted without thinking, pushing herself away from the counter, she raised her hand and slapped her right across the face.  “Don’t you dare take that tone of voice with me ever again.”  
  
“Don’t touch me!”  Buffy raised her hand to the stinging side of her face and tears slipped from her eyes.  “What the hell is wrong with you?”  
  
“There’s nothing wrong with me.  You’re the one who’s causing all these problems.  Why can’t you just be normal like other kids?”  Both Summers women were screaming now, and Buffy pushed away from her mother, heading for the back door.  
  
“God, you have no idea how I wish I was normal.  But I’m not, Mom.  I’m seventeen years old and I’m gonna be a mom.  I won’t ever be normal.”    
  
“Don’t you dare walk out that door.  We are not done here.”  Joyce caught Buffy’s shoulder in a tight grip, preventing her from walking out the door.  “If you walk out that door now, don’t . . . just don’t you dare walk out that door.”  
  
“Let me go, Mom.  I have to go to school.  I’m already late.”  Buffy pulled away from her and without a backward glance she left the house.  
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
  
Buffy was about a half a block away from school when the final bell rang, signaling the start to the school day.  She thought about just blowing it off and heading back home, but her mother was probably still there, stewing about the damn money and she couldn’t face that.   She had no choice but to go forward.  _Chances are, Snyder won’t be hanging around and I’ll be able to sneak inside to my first class.  Hopefully.  With some kind of luck._    
  
But the fates were still conspiring against her, because Snyder was standing at the doors of the school, apparently just waiting for her or any other latecomers so he could get his own cheap thrills out of punishing the students.     
  
The grin covering his troll-like features made his face look like a caricature of some insane alien species that preyed upon human emotions like despair and sadness and Buffy knew her day just went from bad to worse.  It wasn’t even worth bantering with him over, because she knew he’d warned her he was going to do this.  He was taking far too much delight in her progress up the steps toward him.    
  
Buffy glanced up in time to see Mr. Giles open the door behind Snyder and, at his quick glance in her direction, she had a feeling he was going to try and intervene on her behalf.  He started speaking, but Snyder waved him off, saying, “Not now, Mr. Giles.  I’m about to do something I’ve wanted to do for a very long time.”  
  
Turning his attention to her, Snyder’s grin got wider, a feat Buffy had previously thought impossible.  “Such a good morning, Miss Summers.  First day back from vacation and the weather is nice again and, look, you finally decided you’d come to school today.  Did our schedule interfere with a previous engagement?”  
  
With a deep breath, she raised her eyes to his, defiance and false bravado swimming in the hazel depths.  She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing she was upset about this.  She wasn’t going to let this little prick see her cry.  “Good morning, Mr. Snyder.  Wow.  I must be really early since no one else is around.”    
  
She wasn’t playing dumb, she was more intent on needling the little monster as a way of getting a bit of her own back.   
  
A sadistic sound pretending to be a laugh emerged from Snyder’s throat.  “Oh no, Miss Summers.  The truth is you are very late.  And apparently you decided to disregard my warnings about being late, so now you give me no choice but to punish you.”  His hands were practically rubbing together, the only other outward sign of his intense pleasure over what he was about to say.  “Miss Summers, please accompany me to my office so I can suspend you.”  
  
“Do we have to?  I mean if you’re going to suspend me, why not just get it over with and do it out here?”  Buffy’s sarcasm wasn’t lost on Snyder, but he chose to ignore her and the presence of Giles behind him.    
  
“Have to do the paperwork, Miss Summers.  Besides, you have nothing else to do but sit around.  Doesn’t really matter where you do it.”  
  
Ignoring the presence of his Assistant Principal, Snyder turned his back, ushering Buffy inside.  
  
Giles watched them go, wondering when, or even if, Snyder was going to notice the slight bruising on Buffy’s left cheek and arm.  
  
  
    ******************************************************************  
  
  
  
 _Well, that’s that.  I have now officially reached bottom.  Snyder suspended me because Mom picked this morning to go all Mommie Dearest on me and hey, at least I can go home.  Yeah.  Right.  Home.  To face more of the wrath of Ghengis Mom.  Maybe I can skip that?_ Buffy shook her head, refusing to let any evidence of her current emotions surface.  
  
 _I must have been a real shit in my last life._  
  
Closing the door on Snyder as he was gloating about her suspension, Buffy stilled the childish urge to slam it.  
  
She walked toward the outer offices, intent on getting out of the building as quickly as possible.  To add further insult, Snyder had insisted she carry her own suspension orders to the attendance office.  She waited patiently while the secretaries were talking.  Off in her own little world, Buffy didn’t realize what they were discussing until she heard one of them say, “Apparently she’s in his English class.”  
  
“So how did they get caught?”  Was the query from the second, slightly older secretary.  
  
“Not sure.  I heard two different stories.  Someone said they’d gotten a picture of them in his house, but I’m not sure I believe that.”  
  
“Why not?”  
  
“Because that’s just too easy.  The other story is that, well, someone saw them at a truck stop during the Thanksgiving break.”  
  
“So what’s gonna happen?”  
  
“Well, he’s gonna get suspended from his job and he won’t be allowed to teach or have any interaction with students.  But I thought I heard they were going to arrest him before school this morning.”  
  
“So he’s an English teacher?”  
  
“Not any more he’s not.”  
  
 _Oh god. . . ._ Buffy listened, absolutely horrified by what she was hearing.  _No. . . oh my god._ She dropped her paperwork on the desk and numbly walked away.  _No . . . no. . . no. . . please, god. . . not this.  Not Will.  
_  
Her heart in her throat, and tears streaming unchecked from her eyes, Buffy fled from the school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title and quote are from 10,000 Maniacs (album In my Tribe, 1989).


	20. Baby please come home

_**Twentieth.  Baby please come home  
  
It isn't what they say about you, it's what they whisper.   
    Errol Flynn  
  
Trying to squash a rumor is like trying to unring a bell.   
    Shana Alexander  
  
Sometimes, when one person is missing, the whole world seems depopulated.   
    Lamartine**_  
  
  
  
  
  
She ran.  
  
 _Oh god. . . He’s . . . we got busted. . . oh what the hell. .  How could. . . oh my god._  
  
Tears streamed unchecked down her face as she ran further and further away from the school, away from home.  
  
 _Please, god, keep him safe.  Please. . . they can’t do this to us. . . it’s not fair.  Oh. . . God it’s so not fair. . . it’s not fair.  
_  
She tripped, scraping her palms as she braced herself from landing on her belly.  Buffy rolled herself into a ball, sobbing so hard she hiccupped.  _Why us?  Why me?  Why. . .  
  
I’m alone. . .  No one. . . he’s the only one who cares. . . I need him, god, please don’t take him away from me. . . please.  I’m begging._  
  
Buffy sobbed harder, her heart breaking as she realized she had no one – her mom had practically thrown her out and now Will. . .  Fresh tears broke out and she wrapped her arms around her knees.  
  
Unaware of the passage of time or even where she was, Buffy cried until there were no more tears left.  Numb and lost, she finally stumbled to her feet.  It was still daylight and she. . .  There was something she should do, but she couldn’t remember what it was.  Tiredly she headed toward her house, reeling almost drunkenly forward.  
  
Her mother wasn’t there when she climbed in through her bedroom window.  Mechanically Buffy gathered up some clothes, grabbing Mr. Gordo and Will’s tee-shirt in the process.  Following a sudden impulse, Buffy dumped the contents of her jewelry box into her backpack and with one final look around, she headed back out the window.  
  
  
****************************************************************  
  
  
He was really looking forward to his sixth period class.  It was the first time in over a week that they would be in the same place.  Will wasn’t sure how he’d react, and he knew he was going to have to try and hide his expression – and his reaction to her proximity – but at least he’d be able to see her.  
  
Every confidence he’d shared with Dru, every word he’d spoken about Buffy had been weighed with pure unvarnished emotion.  He wanted Buffy in his life, openly, without any threat, without any hindrances.  And he’d been deadly serious when he said he wanted to marry her.  Will wanted his ring on her finger, wanted every last bit of her, every part.  Didn’t matter that she was carrying someone else’s child.  That boy didn’t deserve her – either of them.  He was willing to walk out, to throw away the best possible gift he’d ever been given, because of. . .  There was no good enough reason to abandon that girl, especially if she was pregnant.  
  
Riley Finn was the world’s biggest fool.  
  
Although if he really thought about it, Will should really be thanking the boy.  If Riley wasn’t such a complete and utter fool, Will wouldn’t be in this position.  He wouldn’t be in love with her – at least not this soon.  
  
 _Now where the bleeding hell did that thought come from?_   Will thought about Buffy, how he felt about her, how he’d first noticed her and wondered if his love wasn’t an inevitability.  If maybe this was all destined somehow, like they’d played out this scenario a hundred thousand different times, in as many places and he always, every single time, fell in love with her.  
  
It had almost been instantaneous.  The second he saw her not as a student, but as someone other than just a kid and it was practically that very moment he’d fallen in love.  
  
Almost three months ago, she’d exploded into his world outside of school, bringing light and heat to his increasingly cold world.  Buffy was warm and golden, human sunshine, firing him up from within, thawing out the edges of his frozen heart.  
  
Buffy was his hope, his future and Will planned on telling her so very soon.  He smiled to himself, thinking about the gift he planned on giving her as soon as it was possible.  
  
The bell rang and his sixth period class slowly filed in, while he forced his mind to more mundane matters.  He paced behind his desk, purposely keeping his back to the door, in part to prolong the anticipation and in part to try and control his reaction.  
  
Finally the late bell rang and Will turned around.  His eyes went directly to the only empty desk in his classroom.  
  
She wasn’t there.  
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
  
“Will?”  
  
At the sound of his name being called, Will turned around to see his uncle waving him over to where his car was parked.  Rupert was clearly agitated, his normally placid features replaced by a set jaw and blazing eyes.  
  
“What’s up?”  
  
“I’ve just spent the better part of an hour beating my head against a brick wall.  Fancy having a drink with an old man?”  Giles loosened his tie and tossed his briefcase into his back seat.   
  
“Bureaucracy?”  At his uncle’s negative motion, Will raised his eyebrow.  “So what’s gone so badly that you need a drink at this hour?”  
  
Looking around, Giles said, “Get in.  We’ll talk on the way.”  Giles was quiet for a few moments, then said,  “Jenny’s meeting us there.”  
  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
  
“He did what?”  Will practically shouted in Rupert’s face, while Jenny watched both men’s reactions.  “You’ve got to be fucking joking.”  
  
“God, Will, I truly wish I was.”  Giles slammed his empty tumbler down on the bar, motioning the bartender for another.  
  
Will clenched his jaw and his fists, anger written clearly on his features.  “Fucking wanker.”  
  
“Indeed.”  Giles agreed, shaking his head.  “I also had the pleasure of informing the girl’s mother.  She didn’t take it very well.  She was going to leave her job and go talk to her.  She didn’t sound very pleased.”  
  
He was so very tempted to tell Giles just how Joyce was likely to react to this news, but he couldn’t, though the effort cost him much.  He never noticed the struggle his uncle was going through, that is until Giles’ next words chilled his blood.  “I’ve a question for you, Will.  How well do you know the girl?”  
  
Will froze, afraid in more than one way how to answer that question, though when Giles continued to speak, he relaxed just a little.  “Tried to get Snyder to listen to me, but he wouldn’t.  I think someone hit the girl this morning.  Do you know if she’s still seeing the baby’s father?”  
  
A red haze settled over his vision and it took a considerable force of will for him not to storm from the bar and head right for Joyce and . . . Will had no idea what he’d do, but it wouldn’t be pretty.  “What?”  Then with a very visible effort to get his temper under control, he continued speaking.  “No.  She’s not. . . the boy has someone else.  The Kendall girl.”  
  
“I see.”  Giles stared off into nothing, trying to reconcile what he’d seen this morning with something that made a tiny bit of sense.  Will was clenching and unclenching his fists, frustrated and furious tears seeping from behind closed eyes.  A vein pulsed in his neck and he could literally feel his pulse pounding and his blood rushing through his veins.  He wanted blood . . . wanted Snyder to pay for what he’d done, wanted to punish Joyce for what she was doing to her own flesh and blood.  
  
“Are you all right, Will?”  Jenny had been watching him very closely, much closer than Rupert was and she saw more than just a teacher upset about a favorite student.  She saw a man who was possessively angry.  
  
“Yeah.  ‘M all right.”  He was lying through his teeth, but he didn’t care.  Giles wouldn’t notice and he didn’t owe Jenny any explanations.  He shook his head when the bartender moved to pour him another shot, intoning, “Gotta teach tomorrow.  Would love to get good an’ pissed just now, but can’t.”  
  
Jenny sipped her drink, her eyes following their movements, especially Will’s as she tried to figure out what was going on – what was really going on with Buffy Summers.  There was a speculative look in her eyes, though Jenny held her tongue as Will refused a ride back to the school and headed for the entrance.  
  
“I’ve never seen him this upset about a student suspension before.”  Rupert mused aloud before turning his attention to Jenny.  
  
 _No, I bet you haven’t.  But then I don’t think she’s just any student._  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
He went right to Restfield, looking for her.  He knew she had to be there.  If she was in trouble she’d head there.  He hoped she would.  
  
It was six-thirty when he arrived.  Too early for their usual meeting time, but he didn’t care.  He’d wait for her.  
  
Will started pacing the perimeter of the cemetery, trying to keep his temper under control while he waited for Buffy to leave her house.  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
Nine-forty now.    
  
Buffy hadn’t shown at all.  
  
Will was really starting to worry.  He dialed her cell phone only to get the same message he’d gotten before.  She wasn’t answering.  The phone went right to voice-mail.  
  
  
**************************************************************  
  
  
“Willow?  This is Joyce Summers, Buffy’s mother.”  
  
Willow hesitated before answering, unsure what Buffy’s mom wanted.  “Hi,  Mrs. Summers.  What’s up?”  
  
“I wanted to ask you if Buffy,” she paused, then started over again.  “Buffy hasn’t come home from school and I wanted to know if you’ve seen her.”  
  
The redheaded teenager blew out a breath.  “No, I haven’t seen her at all.  She wasn’t in school today.”  
  
Joyce was unconvinced that Willow was telling her the truth.  Something about the tone of her voice or the way the girl was answering her.  She knew something.  So either Buffy was there with her or she knew exactly where her daughter was.  “Just do me a favor.  If you happen to see her, please tell her that I’d like to speak with her.”  
  
“Sure thing, Mrs. Summers.  If I see her.”  
  
Willow hung up the phone, thoroughly confused.  Buffy had called her earlier, leaving a voice mail that said she was home sick and she’d call her later.  And here was Buffy’s mom saying that Buffy wasn’t home.  
  
Something wasn’t right.  
  
  
***************************************************************  
  
  
The lights were still on.  From his spot behind the big tree in the front yard, Will could just make out one shadow moving around in the living room.  The television was on, the blue lights flickering and reflecting against the big picture window behind the sheer curtains.  The telephone hadn’t rung and there wasn’t a sign of anyone other than Joyce being home.  
  
Buffy’s room was dark.  No lights.  No music.  No sign of life at all.  
  
Feeling like a complete criminal and an incredibly dirty old man, Will circled around the house.  Eyeing the tree growing right beside her window, Will plotted his route up to her bedroom.  Scanning the neighborhood for prying eyes, Will grabbed the lowest branch and swung himself up and into the tree.  The window opened easily and without any noise, which didn’t surprise him, since he knew damn well she snuck in and out of this window all the time.  
  
The room seemed, at first glance to be undisturbed, though as he looked closer, the more his uneasiness grew.  There was something gone, something missing.  Carefully he crossed the floor and pulled open one of her dresser drawers.  He snickered to himself, aware of the irony of him heading right for the drawer holding her panties.  The drawer was half empty and he quickly checked the next drawer down, finding that partially emptied also.  Will turned around, looking for more evidence of the suspicion that was swirling around in his head.    
  
She wouldn’t. . . _Yeah.  She probably would._  
  
Heading over to her bed, Will searched around for the tee-shirt she said she wore every night.  It was nowhere to be found.    
  
She was gone.   
  
Will grabbed some of her things, stuffing them into his pockets, then headed for the window before Joyce heard him moving around.  
  
  
**************************************************************  
  
  
He walked home through Restfield hoping that he’d find some evidence that she’d been there, but there was no sign of her.  No sign that she’d been there at all.  Their usual spot was quiet and he didn’t think she was hiding in the shadows somewhere waiting for him.  
  
He wasn’t going to be able to sleep until he heard from her.    
  
Once more he flipped open his cell phone scanning quickly to see if she left a voice mail.  
  
No message.  
  
His temper was long gone, though if he came across either Snyder or Joyce, he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions.  He was worried about her.    
  
Altering his steps to take a very long route home, Will started looking for his Buffy.  
  
  
****************************************************************  
  
  
She was cold and tired, though strangely enough, not hungry at all.  Her belly was curled up in tight knots and she couldn’t make the pain go away.  There was an ache . . . but it was dull, like she’d run too long or walked too far, and she couldn’t shake the fog that was surrounding her.  
  
Her eyes were blurred from prolonged crying and she curled around Mr. Gordo, huddled into the big cement drum in the playground.  It was marginally warmer than outside, at least she was blocked from the light wind that was blowing and she was, thankfully alone.  Buffy didn’t want to be near anyone, didn’t want to hear false sympathy or yelling voices or angry words from her mother or anyone else.  She wrapped her arms tighter around the small stuffy piggy and wiped her tears on Will’s tee-shirt.  
  
Burying her nose into the soft black cotton, Buffy sniffed hard, searching for his scent.  _Oh, Will._ fresh tears soaked into the material and Buffy rocked back and forth, trying to comfort herself.    
  
 _Please be safe. . . please. . . . let him be safe and not get hurt in jail.  And please, let him get out of jail . . . if one of us needs to . . . let him be safe._  
  
Buffy closed her eyes, praying silently for him, hoping that he was okay.    
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
  
It was long past midnight when he finally gave in for the night, in fact it was nearly two-thirty in the morning.  He’d been out, searching  everywhere he could think of, hoping for signs of her, to no avail.    
  
Restfield was empty.  Well, of all living things, anyway.  
  
Sunny Rest Cemetery was also devoid of the living.  
  
No one was hanging around underneath the bleachers at the highschool field.  
  
He’d chased a couple from behind the junior highschool, sending them home, but there was no sign of Buffy.  
  
She wasn’t near any of the elementary schools either.  
  
He’d called her cell phone every hour, hoping that she would answer, but every single time the voice-mail picked up.  
  
Will trudged into his back door, the two dogs trailing behind him, completely dejected.  He had no idea where else she might be, he’d gone past her house twice more, and the last time Joyce had been in bed.  If he knew where Willow or Xander or any of her other friends lived, he’d have swung past, in the hopes that she was safe and sound with one of them, but he hadn’t thought of that, at least not until this moment.  
  
He switched on his computer, surfed quickly for addresses, then snagged his keys and headed out one more time.  
  
  
****************************************************************  
  
  
It was three-forty in the morning when he went passed the Rosenberg’s residence and as he had figured, all their lights were out.  
  
There were lights on at Harris’ and he could hear the television, so Will decided to park the car and take a look around.  Some guy was asleep in a recliner, beer bottles lined up on the floor next to him, and Will could only assume it was Xander’s father.  No one else was awake, although there was a light on in the basement.  He knelt down to get a closer look and saw Xander sleeping on a pull-out couch and it was very obvious he was alone.    
  
So Buffy wasn’t there.    
  
He was at a loss.  He had no idea where else she might be.  _Oh god, sweetheart, where the fuck are you?  Don’t you know I’m worried about you?  Please god, keep her safe until I can find her. . .  
  
Please baby, please come home. . ._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from a song written by Darlene Love (from Lethal Weapon for you gen-xer’s) and Phil Spector although the version I heard in my head was recorded by that Irish band.


	21. She’s a little runaway

_**Twenty-first.  She’s a little runaway  
  
Gossip needn't be false to be evil  
there's a lot of truth that shouldn't be passed around.   
    Frank A. Clark  
  
My sweet sixteen   
Oh runaway child   
Oh sweet sixteen   
Little runaway girl.   
    Billy Idol, Sweet Sixteen, from the Album Whiplash Smile   
  
Your eyes make a circle   
I see you when I go in there   
Your eyes, your eyes...   
  
If you walk away, walk away   
I walk away, walk away. . .I will follow  
    U2, I will follow, from the album Boy **_  
  
  
  
Buffy wasn’t in their first period class, which was math.  Xander hadn’t heard from her at all, not since before school started again.  Mrs. Summers had called looking for Buffy and sounded like she didn’t believe her when Willow said she hadn’t seen her.    
  
Willow was adding up the facts in her head and she wasn’t liking the answer.  
  
Her best friend was missing.  She didn’t know the first thing about the guy Buffy had met, and all she had to go on was the cryptic weepy message on her voice mail.    
  
Trying to be nosy without being nosy, Willow spent her time in computer science hacking into the school records.  It was relatively simple really, once she figured out the system.    
  
And there it was.  Signed yesterday by order of W. Snyder, a notation in Buffy Summer’s permanent record that she has been suspended for excessive lateness and un-excused  absences.  _What a jerk._  
  
Quickly, Willow printed out the page and erased what she’d done from her screen, before one of the other kids saw what she’d done.  The real question was, what to do with this information now that she had it.  
  
Had Buffy and her new boyfriend run away?  
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
Will hadn’t slept much at all.  In fact he’d fallen asleep on his couch with the cell phone clutched in his hand, hoping that she would call him, like last time and that he’d be able to go pick her up.  From wherever it was that she’d run too.  
  
He’d go to Tijuana if that’s where she was.  
  
Las Vegas.  
  
San Francisco.  
  
 _Hell, I’d fucking follow her to . . . anywhere._  
  
But the phone hadn’t rung and the battery was dangerously low.  
  
He went through the motions of getting ready for school, idly noting the dark circles under his eyes as he brushed his teeth and combed his hair.  Doesn’t matter.   All that matters is finding her.  
  
All his hopes were pinned on her hiding out at Willow’s.  
  
  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
  
She was so cold.    
  
Cement was good for blocking out the wind, but it did nothing to help contain her meager body heat.  Her back was sore and her butt ached from hours spent sitting in an awkward position.  She’d been afraid to lie down, afraid someone would come along and find her, so she’d spent most of the uncomfortable night crouched inside the tunnel, her head resting against the concrete wall.  
  
Buffy woke with tears in her eyes and a pressing need to pee.  The sun was barely over the horizon, and it was far too early for the bathrooms of the public park to be opened, but maybe, if she was careful, she could sneak into the diner and use the one there.    
  
Stumbling and tripping over her own cold numbed feet, Buffy crab-walked away from her tunnel.  _So not sleeping there again tonight, not if I can help it._    
Waiting carefully beside the diner she and Willow had eaten in just before Christmas, Buffy watched all the old people shuffling in and out.  Hunching over like one of them, she snuck in behind an old couple, heading straight for the bathroom.  The warm moist smell of freshly disinfected tiles coupled with the constant early morning nausea nearly crippled her when she opened the door.  The need to pee was immediately replaced with the need to vomit and she barely made it through the first stall before the cramping started.    
  
She hadn’t eaten much at all the day before – snagging a banana as she fled the house after fighting with her mother – and her belly was void of anything nourishing.  Green bile hit the back of her throat and Buffy gagged, trying to hold back, but the urge to let it out was stronger.    
  
Tears dripped down her still cold cheeks and she hiccupped a couple of times, trying to get some air.  She slumped down onto the floor, her head resting against the steel door behind her.  _I’m so tired . . . I want this all to be . . . I’m so damn tired.  I just wanna lay my head down and sleep. . . oh god, Will._  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
She was tempted to say something to Xander, but when he didn’t detach himself from Cordelia at any point during their lunch break, Willow changed her mind.  She didn’t want any word of this getting out to anyone, at least not someone she could trust.  And she really wasn’t sure about Cordy.  Oh, she was nice enough, and she’d stuck up for Buffy a couple of times when the other kids were being really nasty, but Willow thought this was a bit more than just sticking up for someone.  Besides, she didn’t know if she was even on the right track.  Buffy was gone yeah, at least she thought she was, though she could have just  not gone home last night and she could be asleep right now in her own bed.    
  
Willow hoped that’s where she was.  She really didn’t want to think about Buffy running away with her new guy. . . even if she did say she loved him.  
  
Nibbling on her lower lip, Willow was walking quickly into Mr. Stevenson’s English Lit class when his voice caught her attention.  He was clearly agitated by something, since he kept running a hand through his hair and he was gesturing emphatically with his other hand while he talked with Mr. Giles.  Maybe . . . could they be talking about. . . _nah_ , Willow shook her head, realizing that she was probably the only one that knew Buffy was missing, because even Mrs. Summers thought Buffy was staying at her house.  
  
Quietly she slipped inside the classroom, taking her seat in the back, next to the one her best friend used to occupy.    
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
  
Will spied the familiar dark red hair of Willow Rosenberg gliding through the hallways, heading for his classroom, and he needlessly reminded himself to find out what, if anything she knew.  However,  at the moment he was focused on his discussion with Rupert, who was detailing for him for the first time, what he’d observed of the physical condition of Buffy when she’d met with Snyder.  He’d been far to angry to really hear what Rupert had said to him in the bar the night before.  Angry and worried.  Now he was more worried.   
  
_Bruised left cheek.  Bruises on her lower arm, and around one wrist.  Teary-eyed and visibly upset._  
  
Sounded to him like she and Joyce had finally had the confrontation that had been brewing for weeks over the money the Finns offered.  Somehow he didn’t think Buffy’s wishes or wants on that matter were being taken into consideration.  Thing was, he could understand both of their points.  For his own part, Will was with Joyce on the matter, but not for any reason remotely resembling Joyce’s.    
He wanted Riley Finn out of her life.  Forever.    
  
He didn’t want her, or the baby, to have any ties at all to him.  Though he seriously doubted Buffy was ready to hear his reasons why.  
  
He wanted to claim them both.  Wanted both of them to have his name, be his family.  Hell, half the time he didn’t even think of the baby as Finn’s.  The baby was Buffy’s and Buffy was his.  Plain and simple.  So if Buffy was his, the baby was his.  Maybe not biologically, maybe not where science was concerned, but in his heart was where it counted.  He just had to convince her of that.  
  
Nodding once at something Giles said, Will waved him off and headed into his classroom.  He was determined to find out, before the day was through, if Willow knew anything.  
  
Will had barely closed the door to his room, when he’d started speaking.  “Miss Rosenberg, please see me after class.”  
  
Willow looked up sharply, her eyes wide and scared as she saw the fierce look on Mr. Stevenson’s face.  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
The sound of the door opening and the shuffling of feet roused her from the fitful sleep she’d fallen into.  For a long moment, Buffy had no idea where she was, her eyes wild and scared, taking in the industrial green door and the glaring white tile.  _Oh.  Right.  Bathroom._  
  
Getting to her feet, she stretched, trying to work out the sore and stiff muscles, but her body wasn’t happy with her choice of sleeping locations at all. She ached all over, the cold seeping into her bones, settling into her stomach.  Buffy faced her image in the mirror.  _They’re dark today.  Old.  Haunted.  Almost lifeless._ She ignored the other signs of her predicament, choosing to only focus on her eyes.  _They look tired.  Dull.  Just like how I feel._  
  
A deep sigh escaped her and she ducked her head, unwilling to face her image any longer.  _Can’t see if I don’t look._   Cupping her hands, Buffy drank the tap water, swishing it around her dry mouth.  She could feel the icy water sliding down her throat and tensed in anticipation of the belly cramps she was convinced were about to start.  When they didn’t happen, she cupped her hands again and drank as much as she could.  She swore she could almost hear the water sloshing noisily inside her and a slight smile crossed her features.  
  
 _Okay.  Water was good.  How’s about maybe some chicken and stars soup, baby?  Campbell soupy goodness.  And crackers._   Fishing into her pockets, Buffy scrounged up twenty-two dollars, enough for some soup and something warm to drink. _That’s enough for now.  Then I’ll try and find someplace warmer to sleep._  
  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
  
“You wanted to see me?”  Willow stood away from his desk, her books clutched tightly to her chest, confused wariness filling her eyes.  
  
Will looked up at her from his chair, unsure about how to approach this.  He knew the girls were best friends, knew if Buffy had confided in anyone it would be the petite redhead in front of him.  Just how much she knew was the question of the moment.  For now, he was going to play this as cool as he could.  Which would probably backfire on him at any given moment.  
  
“I did.”  Gesturing to one of the desks, Will said, “Have a seat.”  
  
“Is this gonna take long?  Coz I have a class this period.”  Willow bit her lip, realizing she sounded like a brainless twit.  
  
“I’ll write you a pass.”  He got up from his chair, unable to remain sitting. _All right, old man, get on with it._ “Yesterday Principal Snyder suspended Buffy Summers.  That isn’t what. . . Miss Summers was supposed to meet me for mentoring and she never showed.  Have you spoken to Miss Summers since yesterday?”  
  
He was the world’s worst liar.  He knew that.  Couldn’t lie worth a damn.  Was so bad at it that he’d long ago given up trying, but apparently he’d lied well enough this one time, because Willow bought his garbled explanation.  
  
“She left a voice mail, but I can hardly understand what she’s saying.  It’s weird because her mom called me last night asking me if I’d seen Buffy and so when I said no, I don’t think she believed me.  Coz I so wouldn’t have believed me.  I sounded totally lame-o girl.  I should’ve faked an accent or something like that.  
  
“Faked an accent?  How would that have helped?”  Will was staring at her, complete confusion and disbelief on his face.  
  
“See, just like that.  I bet that’s how she looked – like she didn’t believe me.  I haven’t seen Buffy and didn’t really talk to her.  I wish I had because I don’t know where she is.  She‘s not hiding at my house and I don’t think she’s at Xander’s because he couldn’t keep a secret, at least not from Cordy and Cordy wouldn’t let Buffy stay with him anyway.  And I don’t know where Buffy is or her new boyfriend and I don’t even know _who_ he is, coz she wouldn’t even tell me his name and I think she ran away with him and I know she loves him because she told me and if they ran away where the heck did they go and why hasn’t she called me?”  
  
The more she’d talked the more agitated she got and Will swore she hadn’t breathed once through any of her last statements and he tried schooling his face but it proved impossible.  So Willow knew something, just not everything and Buffy hadn’t told her his name or any other distinguishing characteristics, otherwise he had a feeling Willow would have been the one to confront him and not the other way round.  He could . . . his safety didn’t matter right now, only Buffy’s.  And he suddenly had a very bad feeling about what had happened.  
  
“Willow, what exactly did she say in her message?”  He needed to know what she said and how much she explained to her, before he jumped in with both feet.  
  
“Here.”  Willow pulled out her cell phone, punched in some numbers and held it out to him.  “Just hit okay to listen to the message.”  
  
Will stared at her, hesitant to listen in front of her.  Before he had time to really think or brace himself, he’d hit the button and Buffy’s tear-filled voice sounded in his ear.  “Wills?  I know you’re not there. . .  But. . . I can’t.  I’m so sorry.  Please.  Tell him I’m sorry.  Mom freaked on me and now Snyder and then. . . he can’t lose his job because of me.  So I’m just gonna. . . I’ll call you and let you know I’m okay as soon as I . . . know.  Figure out where. . . love you, Wills.”    
  
It took all of his considerable willpower to not fling the phone or crush it in his hand or rage against the . . . his foot was connecting with one of the chairs before he could stop it and the sound of it breaking against the wall brought him back to himself and he was standing in the middle of his classroom, his chest heaving and his hands clenched and he turned when Willow gasped.  
  
She’d never seen anyone react like that ever.  Never seen a teacher get so upset that he’d smashed a chair.  Willow stared at him goggle-eyed, her hand covering her mouth, unable to get a coherent thought in her head.  “Oh my god. . . oh my god. . .”    
  
His smile was wry and ironic, as he realized he’d just totally over-reacted.  He waited, not looking at Willow, getting his temper under control.  
  
The silence stretched out between them, neither one of them entirely sure about how to breach the quiet.  Willow was barely breathing, her mind swirling with hundreds of thoughts and thousands of questions but unable to give any of them voice.  On the other end of the room, Will was unable to stop the tremors coursing through his muscles and his hands clenched tight enough to whiten his knuckles.  The muscle in his jaw flexed and Will knew he’d completely lost his temper and possibly blown his flimsy cover story about his involvement with Buffy.  He blew out a breath, waiting for Willow to say something.    
  
“Mr. Stevenson?”  She finally found her voice, the question sounding very small against the harsh breaths he was trying to control.    
  
“Yeah?”  He finally turned his icy gaze on her, his eyes blazing with suppressed rage and concern.  Willow eeped, flinching back slightly at his fierce expression.  
  
“Um.  I guess she didn’t run away with her new boyfriend, did she?”  She was shaking her head, answering her own question, a weird expression on her face.  “Buffy . . . she was talking about you, right?”  
  
He sighed, then just nodded his head once, without saying a word.  “You gave her the necklace?”  
  
Again he nodded, confirming her guess.  “So. . . so. . . um. . .”  
  
“Look, Red, I was up all night looking for her, so can we not . . .”  He caught a glimpse of Willow’s expression and relented a bit.  “I went looking for her as soon as I heard about what Snyder did yesterday.  Has she tried calling you since then?”  
  
“Nope.  Nothing.”  Willow watched him pace around, his hands fisted in his pockets.  “Mr. Stevenson?  Have you talked to her mom?”  
  
“Joyce?  No.  Giles called and told her about the suspension.”  Thinking a bit, wondering just how much Willow knew, he asked, “Did Buffy say anything to you about Finn?”  
  
“Um.  Well, before or after we dumped all of his stuff on his front lawn?”    
  
His head snapped up to look at her and he fought a grin.  “She told me about that.  Must‘ve been quite a sight, poor Finn standing out in the middle of the street.”  He snorted, then sobered immediately.  “No, that’s not what I’m asking, Red.”  
  
“You mean the money they offered her.”  Willow shook her head, then continued.  “I don’t know much.  She wouldn’t tell me about all of it.  I know her mom wasn’t happy about what Buffy was doing.  I heard them fighting about it on Christmas morning, but Buffy never really wanted to talk about it.  So I didn’t . . . I guess I should have asked, huh?”  
  
He was shaking his head, understanding pretty much why Buffy hadn’t really told Willow everything.  “Wasn’t an easy situation with them.  Bloody stubborn the both of them.”    
  
“So where did you look for her?”    
  
“Cemetery.  School grounds.  Drove passed your house and Harris’ early this morning.  Dunno where else to look.”  He leaned against his desk, his feet crossed at the ankles, watching her intently.  
  
“Cemetery?  Why’d you look there?”  Her face was scrunched up in distaste and he almost laughed.  
  
“It’s the only place we can meet, Red, without anyone spying something they shouldn’t.  Was the first place . . .”  Thinking better of continuing that thought out loud, Will changed the subject, “Yeah, so looked there.  Any ideas where else she might have holed up, pet?”  
  
Willow was shaking her head.  “Why didn’t she go . . . I mean, you guys are like together and so she knows she could be with you and no one would know where she was and she didn’t so I have no idea.”  
  
It took him a minute to figure out what Willow was trying to say and he too was at a loss.  “I have no idea.  What did she mean about losing my job?  What the hell is that all about?”  
  
“I dunno.”  Willow shrugged.  “Did someone . . . does anyone else know about you guys?”  
  
“No.  Well, just a friend of mine, but only the four of us.”  Will was wracking his brains trying to figure out what was in Buffy’s head and why she would be worried about him losing his job.   “Hold on a second, Red.”  
  
He grabbed his own cell phone and quickly scrolled through his address book for Drusilla’s number.  He waited, tapping his feet, until she picked up the phone.  Willow listened to the one-sided conversation, her mouth opened slightly.  
  
“Pet.  Need your help.”  There was silence while he waited, then, “Yeah, about her.  She’s gone missing.  Dru. . . please?”  
  
He smiled at Willow though the expression never reached his eyes.  He reached for a pen, but he couldn’t find one and instead grabbed a piece of chalk and started writing on the board.  “Yeah.  Yeah, that’s her. . . right.  Bloody fuckin’ hell. . .  That ‘splains. . . yeah.  Yeah, duchess, I’m listening.  No.”    
  
The words on the board, coupled with a rough sketch of a tunnel, had Willow staring in disbelief.  Whoever Mr. Stevenson was talking to was way strange and knew way more about the situation than she did, because there was lots of little weird things up there.  Like names, and while she watched, a pretty sketch of Buffy smiling sadly appeared on the board almost magically and Mr. Stevenson stopped speaking to just stare at it.  
  
“What?  Sorry, was thinkin’.  Yeah.  I said yes, didn’t I?  Fuck, Drusilla, jus’ . . . let it go, I bloody said yes.  Yeah.  Right.  No.  No.  Keep Liam out of it.  No, I’ll find her.  Soon as I . . . yeah, the minute I find her.”    
  
Willow was staring,  her eyes darting between the board and the gorgeous sketch and his still form.  It was long minutes before she realized he’d stopped speaking and was just looking at the drawing he’d done quickly.  She was afraid to ask, afraid to break the cocoon of silence surrounding him, unwilling to disturb this moment.  She realized, as she watched him that his feelings for Buffy were deeper than she had . . . Willow didn’t think, when she realized Buffy had been talking about Mr. Stevenson all along that he felt the same way her best friend did.  But she’d been very wrong about that.  It was very clear that his emotions were just as strong as Buffy’s.  
  
“Need you to copy the names and . . . other stuff down.”  Was all he said without turning around to look at her, his eyes never leaving the drawing.  His hand reached out to touch it, and very softly almost too low for Willow to hear, he whispered, “Where are you love?  Need you to come home.”  
  
  
**************************************************************  
  
  
Drusilla wiped away the tears she’d been shedding, then hung up the phone.  She knew during the reading she’d done for Will on Christmas day that things were going to get rough, but she’d not expected this at all.  He sounded lost.  There was no way of being certain the information she’d been given was current or . . .  Scrambling to her feet and stepping lightly over the toys strewn about her living room floor, Drusilla headed for her bedroom and the tarot deck.  
  
Maybe there were more answers to be found.  Maybe she’d be able to shed some more light on the situation and help Will find his sunshine.  
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
  
“Okay, I copied everything but the drawings.”    
  
It took him long minutes to answer, though Willow waited patiently, her eyes on his profile.  “Yeah.”   
  
Will reached out a hand, his finger tracing over the chalk lines on the board, hovering over the image staring back at him.  “Some English teacher in Los Angeles got arrested for sleeping with one of his students.”  He paused, not looking at Willow, but knowing he had her full attention.  “She must have heard something that led her to believe it was us.”  
                      
“Oh my god.”  He was standing so still, Willow thought for a moment that he’d stopped breathing,  then he sighed deeply and she knew it was just a trick of her mind.  “She thought it was you.  So that’s why she ran away.”  
  
“Guess so.  Just wish she hadn’t panicked.”  The dejection in his voice forced her to move closer and rest her hand on his forearm.  
  
“She’s gonna come back.  We’ll find her or something. . . but she will come back.”    
  
“I hope you’re right, pet.  Can’t live without her.”  Savagely he brushed his hand over the simple drawing, erasing her image from the board.  Moving away from where Willow was standing, he finally found the pen he’d been looking for earlier and quickly wrote the promised note to Willow.  “Here.  Go on to class.”  
  
She took it, staring down at it for a moment.  “If she calls me, I’ll come right to you.”    
  
He didn’t speak, didn’t even watch as she gathered up her things and left his classroom.  
  
    


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from a song by Bon Jovi (and no, the lyrics don’t apply to this story at all – and the only reason why is because of the chorus line).


	22. Hell is living without you

**_Twenty-second.  Hell is living without you  
  
I can't find your face in a  
thousand masquerades  
You're hidden in the colors of a  
million other lost charades  
In life's big parade  
I'm the loneliest spectator  
Cuz you're gone without a trace in  
a sea of faceless imitators  
I can't take another night  
Burning inside this  
Hell is living without your love  
Ain't nothin' without your  
Touch me  
Heaven would be like hell  
Is living without you  
Try to walk away  
When I see the time I've wasted  
Starving at a feast  
And all this wine I've never tasted  
On my lips your memory has been  
stained  
Is it all in vain  
Tell me who's to blame  
I can't take another night  
Burning inside this  
Hell is living without your love  
Ain't nothin' without your  
Touch me  
Heaven would be like hell  
Is living without you  
Nights get longer and colder  
I'm down and begging to hold ya  
On my own and I feel like hell  
Is living without you  
Hell is living without your love  
Ain't nothin' without your  
Touch me  
Heaven would be like hell  
Is living without you  
Nights get longer and colder  
I'm down and begging to hold ya  
On my own and I feel like hell  
Is living without you  
    Alice Cooper, Hell is living without you, from the album Trashed   
_**  
  
  
She wasn’t sure how long it had been since she’d had a really good meal but Buffy thought it was at least a couple of days.  She couldn’t remember.  Everything had started to blur into one long continuous nightmare.  Waking nightmare.  Sleeping nightmare.  Nothing made much sense anymore.  She’d woken up this morning behind some office building, in a shed that had heat and a bathroom.  Some worker had left the door unlocked and Buffy wasn’t stupid enough to not take advantage of it.  So she’d been warm and dry and, hey, sort of clean.    
  
Two days ago, or at least she thought it was two days ago, she’d gone into one of the pawn shops and sold all her jewelry, except for the necklace Will had given her for Christmas.  Everything Riley had ever given her, the earrings out of her ears and her highschool ring, all sold.  And it still wasn’t enough to get her out of Sunnydale and into San Diego.  She’d thought about going to Los Angeles, but she didn’t want any reminders of her father or any one else.  She wanted to start someplace new.    
Some place where no one knew who she was, knew who Riley Finn was or knew who Will was; so that she could pretend that the baby was Will’s.  And that they were separated because of something . . . anything but what was really keeping them apart.    
  
Buffy rested her head against the wall, her eyes staring down at the small pile of money in front of her.  Selling all that stuff hadn’t amount to a whole lot of money.  She had two hundred five dollars and eighty-seven cents.  The bus ticket to San Diego cost one eighty, which didn’t leave her all that much to use for food.  Buffy knew today she had to eat, because she didn’t remember doing it the day before.  She was rationing her intake of food, eating only when she was really, really hungry and she wouldn’t go anywhere but that diner where all the old people ate.  It was the cheapest place around and the food wasn’t that bad.  At least it was warm food.    
  
And none of her friends ever went there.  Which was a big plus.  
  
She didn’t want to see any of her friends.  
  
She only wanted Will.  The one person she couldn’t have.    
  
Buffy curled around herself, hands clasped in front of her knees and laid her head down on her bent knees.  
  
The ache of missing him got worse every day, every hour.    
  
The tears that were never very far away sprang to her eyes, leaking down her cheeks, wetting the denim beneath her face.    
  
Every time she thought about him, Buffy’s heart hurt a little more.  She was sure by now that he’d been released from jail, that somehow he’d posted bail or something and he was safe in his house, but she couldn’t make herself walk passed it to make sure of that.  She couldn’t face it if he wasn’t there, if he was still in jail.  He had to be safe.  He couldn’t be in that kind of hell.  
  
Buffy felt like part of her was right there with him.  But a bigger part of her believed the reason why he was there was because of her.  It was all her fault.  If they hadn’t connected – if she hadn’t started to rely on him, to fall in love with him, he would have been safe.  He’d still have his job and his life and he wouldn’t be in that place.  
  
There were noises in the yard and Buffy knew it was time to leave, to head out and go sit in the diner and eat a big breakfast.  After that she’d figure out what to do about leaving Sunnydale for good.  
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
  
He’d spent every night since she’d disappeared looking for her.    
  
Quartering the small town that was Sunnydale in endless circles, his knowledge of the place he now called home had grown considerably.  He knew every approach to every school or playground, knew alleyways and empty buildings, abandoned warehouses and homeless haunts.  And yet for as well as he knew those places, none of them held the one he searched for.    
  
Will had sketched her onto a piece of paper and he carried it with him wherever he was, unwilling to give up the search until he found her.  Most nights he flashed around the sketch to some of the homeless, but there were plenty of nights when he was alone that he didn’t run into another living soul.    
  
Some nights Willow accompanied him, though most nights he was alone and that suited him.  He was uncomfortable having Willow with him and he felt compelled to carry on conversations with her.  It was easier when she dragged Xander with her and they went their separate ways.  
  
Two nights after they figured out why Buffy had run away, Willow had broken down and told Xander part of what happened.  That Snyder had suspended Buffy and she’d run away for her own reasons.  His reaction had been remarkably similar to Will’s, which had kind of wigged Willow out, but she figured it had to be the protective nature of both males.  The one thing she had kept from Xander had been their relationship.  Will had insisted on it.  
  
He was making his slow way through Restfield, the place he started and ended every search, hoping to find some evidence that she’d been there recently, when something caught his eye by one of the crypts.  
  
It wasn’t much of anything really.  Just a small piece of paper, ragged and obviously ripped from a larger piece of notebook page.    
  
Will stared down at it, and when a sudden breeze almost fluttered it away, his big black boot stomped down on it.  He had no idea how long he stared down at the top of his boot, but when his cell phone rang, he growled in annoyance then answered it.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Mr. S. . . you.  I. . . got a voice mail.  She called a little while ago.  Where are you?”  
  
He nearly dropped the phone when Willow’s hastily stammered words registered in his brain.  “In Restfield.  Where’re you?”  
  
“I’m home, was just in the bathroom before getting ready to go out and she called and I missed it and I’m so sorry, but it was her voice and she’s not far and I didn’t know.”  Willow couldn’t stop the rush of words from her mouth, until he practically yelled at her.  
  
“Red!  Take a breath.  Meet me outside the front gate in ten minutes, yeah?”  He was already on his way there, his strides eating up the distance, when the memory of the piece of notebook paper flashed in his head.  He turned round and grabbed for it, looking down at the words.  “She’s been here too.  Found something.”  
  
He clicked the phone shut and made another quick circle of the area, then headed for the front gate.  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
She was going to have to tell him.  The pressure of dealing with Buffy’s disappearance and everything else was just too much for her to handle.  Willow was going to explode into little redheaded parts, just go kerplooey one day and then they’d be looking for her too.    
  
Calling out a goodbye to her as usual oblivious parents, Willow slipped out to meet Mr. Stevenson.  Once out her front door, Willow headed off in the direction of Restfield.  
  
He was standing between street lamps, under the ornate sign identifying the cemetery, his eyes watching at shadows when she finally raced up.  Without a word of greeting, she handed him her phone.  
  
Buffy’s voice filled his head and Will was hard pressed to suppress his tears.  “Hey, Wills.  Um. . . . wanted to let you know I’m still okay.  And I’m trying to figure out where to go. . .some place where me and baby. . . I guess you know by now about me and Will.  I never meant to hurt him.  I love him. . . so much.  Everything hurts without him. . .”  
  
The tears he’d been trying to suppress stood out in his eyes and he wiped them away furiously.  Willow just stared at him, stunned speechless.  _Never seen a grown man cry like that.  Oh my god. . . this is killing him._  
  
“Buffy’s mother has been calling me.  She,” Willow hesitated unsure of what to say when he didn’t react to her voice.  “Um, yeah.  She doesn’t believe me.  I think she thinks that I’m hiding Buffy and that she won’t come to the phone or something when she calls.  And Buffy’s still not answering her phone.”  
  
He finally reacted to that.  “I know that, Red.  ‘S like she’s refusing because she’s afraid of finding out how bad things are or somethin’.  Dunno what to think anymore. “ Will stared down at the piece of paper in his hand.  “Been ten days.  ‘M just numb . . . can’t go on w’out her.  Every. . . night . . .” His voice trailed off and he made no effort to hide the tears falling from his eyes.  
  
Curling his fingers into a tight fist, Will pushed away from the cemetery gate.  “G’on home pet, ‘m gonna keep looking.”  
  
Shaking her head in defiance of his command, Willow trailed after him.  “I think I have an idea.”  
  
“You think you have an idea.  What’s that, Red?”  He walked ahead of her, his head down, watching the pavement go by underneath his feet.  
  
“Before Christmas, when you suspended me for fighting with Harmony, Buffy and I went to this diner near the senior citizen housing project.  And, maybe she’s over there?”  He stole a quick glance down at her and he caught a glimpse of the very hopeful expression on her face.  Will didn’t have the heart to squash her enthusiasm, since his spirits were at a very dangerously low point.  Why did she call Willow and not him?  Was she afraid of him rejecting her?  What was. . . _why is she so afraid to call me?  
_  
“All right, we’ll try this place.”  His tone was devoid of any hope at all, believing that this hunch of hers, like all the others, was just another dead end.  Will fought new tears, his own worries overwhelming him, drowning his thoughts.  
  
They were quiet on the rest of the walk, each one of them wrapped up in their own thoughts.  Willow was certain Buffy had been in this diner, she knew it with a certainty that was nearly chilling in its intensity.    
  
Not surprisingly, the place was nearly empty, only a couple of people sitting in booths and a few of the staff hanging around.  Willow tugged him toward one of the waitresses, babbling a bit at him, urging him to take the sketch out and show it around.  Giving into her entreaties, Will handed over the drawing, fully convinced this was just another dead-end.  
  
“Yeah.  She’s usually in during the morning.”  Glancing down at the worn paper in her hands, the dyed redhead snapped her gum and called out to one of her co-workers.  “Gina!  C’mere and take a look at this.”  
  
The aforementioned Gina came over, trailed by one of the busboys, and both of them nodded their agreement.  “She was here this morning.”  
  
“No.  It was after lunch today.”  The busboy corrected her in broken English, his accent making it difficult to understand.  “She come in today when I was coming to work.”    
  
Willow beamed at them, gratitude lighting her features.  “See?! I knew she would be in here.  I knew it!  Thank you so much.”  
  
Finally finding his voice, Will asked, “Any ideas where she might be staying?”  
  
The three shared a look, and before they could hesitate, Will continued, “She’s been missing for ten days.  She’s my. . . she’s . . . I just need to find her, so anything you can tell me would be a help.”  
  
Gina shared a look with the busboy and she shrugged.  “She’s been in a couple of times lately.  Always looks like she’s been crying and she always orders soup and hot chocolate.“    
  
The busboy broke in, saying, “She get sick a lot.”    
  
“Yeah, she’s pregnant.”  Will had heard enough.  “Look, she’s my girlfriend.  She think’s I’ve been arrested for something stupid and she thinks it’s because of her.  So she ran.  I need to find her.”  Grabbing a pad from one of the girls, Will wrote down his cell phone number   “If you see her. . . please.  Call me.  Don’t say anything to her, just call me.”  
  
Skeptical looks greeted his request, until Willow added her assurances.  “It’s true.  It’s a long story, but her first boyfriend dumped her when she told him she was pregnant.  And Will and Buffy fell in love and believe me, it’s love.  He’s out every night looking for her and she’s insane-o girl for running away.”  Glancing at the faces ranged about her, Willow realized she was babbling and stopped.  “I’m sorry.  I get like that when I’m nervous.  Just please call.  Or hey, you can call me.”  Willow snatched the pen and pad from William’s hands and wrote down her name and number.  “There.  Please?”  
  
The first waitress shared a look with her co-workers, then said, “If we see her, one of us will call you.”  
  
“Thanks.”  Will couldn’t speak, emotion closing his throat.  _So close.  So bloody fucking close.  She’d been there today.  She’s still in Sunnydale. . . still close._   The need to find her and bring her home was clawing in his guts, twisting them until he was nearly in physical pain.    
  
“C’mon, Red, let’s get you home.”  Guiding her out the door, Will headed straight for her house, eager for once to continue the search.  He had something to go on. . . a sign.  A glimmer of hope, which had been all he’d needed.  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
Giles watched his nephew trudge across the parking lot toward the building, his shoulders slumped and his gait lurching, as if he were just drunk enough to care how he looked.  If he didn’t know him better, Giles would have thought Will was drunk.  But he knew differently.  Or he hoped he did.  Something had happened in the last two weeks that had Will reeling, off balance and distracted and it was beginning to affect his work.  
  
Not that any of his students were complaining.  In fact they were noticing the strain also.  Just the other day, Cordelia Chase had stopped him in the hallway asking him if he knew what was wrong with Mr. Stevenson.  Her comment about him being unusually quiet had sparked a bit of concern within him and since then Giles had been watching him.  And he didn’t like what he was seeing.  
  
Heading over to him, intent on intercepting his only living relative, Giles watched while Willow Rosenberg walked up to him.  Her hand on his arm startled Will, although they stopped walking to converse quietly, their heads close together.  Will said something to the student, who shook her head and then, with a sad look back at him, she left Will standing there alone.    
  
His head was bent and just by the bow of his shoulders Giles knew something was very seriously wrong.  Giles was at his side before Will had a chance to move on and just at a quick glance his suspicions were confirmed.  “Will?”  
  
Tired and red-rimmed eyes shot up, pain and loss clear in the blue depths.  Rupert nearly staggered from the emotion swimming in his nephew’s eyes and he instinctively reached out a hand to grasp Will’s forearm.  
  
“What’s wrong?”  
  
But all Will did was shake his head, clearly unable to trust his own voice.    
  
“Will?  You have to tell me.”  Then realizing how pompously imperious he sounded, Rupert relented a bit.  “Something’s wrong, I can see it.  Tell me what I can do to help.”  
  
“Nothing.  I’m tired is all.  Not sleeping well.”  They both knew it was a partial truth, both men knowing full well that Will was the world’s worst liar.  
  
Peering down only slightly to meet his gaze, Rupert stared into eyes so very like his sister’s.  “You know, Will, I’d do anything to help you.  You just have to trust me.  I’m not going to betray your trust.”  
  
A snort of disbelief was his answer and an angrily mumbled, “Can’t bloody trust anyone.  Too many people know already.”  
  
Giles blew out a breath.  He knew it was. . . he hadn’t wanted to believe Jenny’s suspicions, but since the girl was suspended two weeks ago, Will had been increasingly distracted and although Snyder had suspended her for only five days, it was now the twelfth day of her absence and Giles was beginning to suspect the pregnant teen wasn’t ever coming back to school.  Taking a huge chance, Giles said very quietly, “It’s the Summers girl isn’t it?”  
  
Will didn’t dare look at him, but a tensing of his jaw and the muscle flexing by his temple was all the confirmation Rupert needed.  Thinking quickly, and without much regret, Giles said, “I don’t want to know the particulars.  So don’t give me details.  Just answer a couple of questions for me.”  
  
The two men stood there, neither one looking at the other and Will had the sinking feeling that he was about to be suspended, despite his blood-ties to the other man.  Couldn’t have the pair of them losing their jobs over this.  But once more, the old man surprised him, by pulling on his arm, leading him away from the building.  “She’s missing, isn’t she?”  
  
At the simple nod of his head, Giles let out a deep breath, at the same time uttering, “Oh, dear god.  How long?”  
  
“Twelve days.”  It was all Will could trust himself to say.  
  
“Bloody hell.”  Giles rubbed the side of his nose, dislodging his glasses.  Resettling them correctly around his ears, he thought for a few more moments.  “Go home, Will, get some sleep.  You’re not doing anyone any good this way.”  
  
“Have to keep going.  Can’t. . . just give up.”  He pushed his hands deeper into his pockets, fisting them to keep from throwing a punch or shaking his fists at heaven.  
  
“No.  Today’s Wednesday.  Go home.  Take the rest of the week off and just get some sleep.  You look like something I’d throw out with the trash.”  Further throwing caution to the wind, he said, “I’ll help you look tonight.”  
  
Will lifted his eyes, tears swimming in them, tears he wasn’t able to hide any longer.  “Her bloody mother thinks she’s hiding at Rosenberg’s.  Doesn’t . . . hasn’t filed a police report.  And I’ve no standing to do it.”   
  
“Go home, Will.  Get some sleep.”  
  
Giles pushed him in the direction of his car, prodding the middle of his back gently.  “Go on, Will.  You look dead on your feet.”  
  
A sardonic laugh greeted that last statement.  “Feel that way.”  
  
“Then it’s appropriate.  Be careful driving home.”  
  
And then Giles was gone back into the school, and Will was left alone with his jumbled and  confused thoughts.  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
He stumbled into his bedroom, barely removing his boots before his head hit the pillows and without double checking the dogs or his phone, Will fell into a deep sleep.  
  
It was daytime, very early in the morning, and he could hear the faint sounds of music coming from somewhere in the house, the strains of alternative eighties hits echoing in his head and Will groaned, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep.  But the music was insistent and as his brain started working, he recognized the distinctive voice of Joey Ramone droning away.  A wide smile creased his face and Will rubbed the sleep from his eyes.  
  
Stretching and getting to feet, Will absently scratched his bare belly, his mind blissfully blank.  His mouth was dry, like he’d either been drinking or sleeping open-mouthed and he needed a drink.  Following his need, Will headed straight for the kitchen.  Only to stop dead at the sight that greeted his barely awake eyes.  
  
Buffy was singing and dancing in the kitchen, flour and eggs and batches of cookies in varying stages of the baking process ranged about his kitchen.  The kitchen was warm and smelled delicious, and his heart rose in his throat, his breath hitching at the vision of her bopping around to Joey Ramone and her blond hair piled up haphazardly on top of her head.  Her back was too him, and the majority of the kitchen was blocked from his view because he’d stopped dead in his tracks.  _God, woman_ , he thought, _I love you so fuckin’ much._  
  
A smile curved on his lips and Will restrained himself from speaking because she whirled around to Blitzkrieg Bop and he stopped breathing.  She was heavily pregnant, her belly protruding out from her, but she was glowing, the heat from the oven making her face flush.  She must have spied him hiding there, because her grin was sheepish and she giggled softy.  “Morning, sleepy head.  Didn’t mean to wake you.”  
  
“You didn’t, kitten.”  He took a step into the kitchen, only to be brought up short when a high-pitched squeal sounded and the patter of bare feet slapped across the tiled floor.  “Daaaaaaaaaddddddddyyyyyyyyy!!!  You wakeded up!!!!!!!!!!”  
  
A small body slammed into his legs and Will nearly fell over from the impact.  “Hey, slow down, princess.  You gotta be careful running around like that.”  
  
He bent down to lift the little one into his arms and before he could grab Buffy, the buzzer for the oven went off and she moved to get the cookies out of the oven.  But the noise didn’t stop, even after she hit the timer.    
  
Will groaned, rolling over as his brain registered that it had all been a dream.  The buzzer was his vibrating cell phone, which was in his pocket.  Fumbling for it, Will groggily answered.    
  
There was silence on the other end for so long that he thought he’d dreamed the phone call also, but then very softly, very faintly, he heard a whisper of sound.  Every sense went on alert, every nerve pinged with awareness.  He closed his eyes, afraid to say anything for fear of scaring her away.  He waited, his heart in his throat and tears starting to stream down his face.  
  
“I’m. . . Will?  Are you there?  I. . . I’m so sorry.  Didn’t want to get you into trouble.  All I do is cause trouble. . .  Oh god.  Will. . .” her voice broke on a sob and he couldn’t speak.    
  
He cleared his throat, his own tears making his voice husky and deep with need and love.  “Baby. . . _please_ come home.  _Please_.”  
  
But she was gone.  
  
All he heard was dead air.  
  
  
****************************************************************  
  
  
Beyond a terse greeting and a softly-voiced indication that they were going to search starting in Restfield Cemetery and then head over to the housing developments, Rupert and Will hadn’t spoken a word the entire time they searched.  
  
They didn’t encounter any homeless, then Will hadn’t expected too; it was a cold and cloudy night, rain threatening and they tended to find whatever meager shelter they could on nights like this.  He had no inclination to explain himself, or his actions, or anything about his relationship with Buffy Summers to his uncle.  If he didn’t give him anything, there was nothing that Giles could use against him later on.  The fact that the man was out with him searching for her was enough.  It was more than either of her parents were willing to do.  He seriously doubted if Joyce had even bothered to inform her ex-husband that their only child was missing.  Joyce didn’t believe it.  He’d overheard one of Willow’s conversations with Joyce and the woman clearly, sincerely, believed that her daughter was hiding out at the Rosenberg’s, despite Willow’s statements otherwise.  
  
It was after one in the morning when Will sent his uncle home, and though Rupert had started to say something, Will had just waved him off and headed in the opposite direction.  It was clear to Rupert that his nephew wasn’t done searching for the night and he doubted that Will would arrive home before daybreak.    
  
The reality of Will’s situation struck him, as he was waiting at a stop light, after leaving him.  Will had all the hallmarks of a man in love who’d lost his woman.  The grief, the unshaven face, the teary red eyes and the dejected set of his shoulders – all clearly visible to anyone who cared to look.  This wasn’t like what had happened when Drusilla had left him or when he’d broken up with any of the other endless parade of women over the years.  No.  This was how he’d acted when Anne had passed on, when his mother had finally given in to her own grief and illness and joined James.    
  
 _Oh, dear god.  Will is in love with her.  
  
And she’s seventeen bloody years old.    
_  
Rupert resolved, as far as the district was concerned, to keep this as quiet as possible.  The last thing Will needed right now was more interference or heartbreak.  But he had a sneaking suspicion that Joyce Summers wouldn’t just roll over and let him be if she found out just how involved Buffy’s English teacher was.    
  
The question for him, though, was this all a one-sided obsession on Will’s part or did the girl return his feelings?  
  
  
***************************************************************  
  
  
It was four days before Gina saw the girl the strange couple were looking for come into the diner.  She watched her sit down at the counter, blowing on her cold fingers and motioned to the other waitress that she would take this order.  Without a word, Gina got the hot chocolate ready, then added extra milk and a bit more whipped cream than she normally did.  _If this little slip of a thing is pregnant, then she needs to be eating better._  
  
Placing the drink down with a smile, Gina waited until the younger girl looked up in surprise.  “Figured you could use that.”  
  
“Thanks.  It’s cold out.”  Buffy wrapped her hands around the mug, grateful for the warmth.  
  
“So.  Whatcha gonna have today?”  Gina leaned against the counter, her eyes watching the wariness in the other, wondering what had made her run from such a good looking man.  “Hhmm??  Anything catch your eye?”  
  
Buffy stared up at the waitress, unsure why suddenly she seemed bent on having a conversation with her.  “Grilled cheese.  And maybe some soup.  I’m hungry today.”  
  
Gina bustled off, then was back shortly, a strange look on her face.  She leaned closer over the counter, her hand close to Buffy’s.  “Listen, sweetie.  I wanna tell you something, but you gotta promise me not to run off, okay?”  
  
Narrowing her eyes, Buffy hesitated, then nodded her head.  “What?”  
  
“Look.  Couple of days ago, a guy and a girl came in here looking for you.  He had this drawing, it was you.  Your face.  Pretty good drawing too.”  Gina paused, poised to grab the girl’s hand if she made a move to run.  “Said you ran away because of a misunderstanding.  That you thought he was in trouble because of you.  He wanted me to call his cell phone if you came in.  But I figure,” she paused one more time, “That you should know he’s looking, in case he was lying.”  
  
Shaken and worried, Buffy stared down at the melting whipped cream.  The hot chocolate started to curdle in her belly and all the fears about Will came rushing back.  _But, maybe he was right?  Maybe. . ._ “What did he look like?”  
  
“Girl.  That man was _fine_.  Gorgeous blue eyes and damn, his face, he was just fine.  I was tempted to call hm anyway just to get him to come in again.  And his accent.  _Ooohhh._   Yeah, he’s fine.”  The other woman’s reaction was so over the top that Buffy couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her.  
  
“Yeah.  Will’s a hottie.”  The words were out of her mouth and said so sincerely that Gina had to believe that Mr. Hot and Fine had been telling the truth.  
  
“Look, girl, that man looked broken up.  You need to go back to him.  You’re miserable and he’s miserable.”  She stopped talking when her name was called and she motioned to Buffy, “Be right back.  Don’t go.”  
  
Too stunned to say or do much of anything, Buffy mechanically drank her hot chocolate.  If Will was out looking, the other person had to be Willow. . . unless it was Drusilla.  A huge platter of grilled cheese and a golden mound of french fries was placed in front of her and Buffy looked up at Gina’s smiling face.  “Um.  I ordered just a sandwich.”  
  
“So sue me.  I gave you fries too.”  Her smile was kind and not the least bit unfriendly.    
  
“The girl with him.  Did she have red hair?”  Afraid of the answer in case it wasn’t Willow, Buffy played with a french fry before popping it into her mouth.  _Oh damn.  I missed this. . . these are soo good.  
_  
“Oh yeah.  She had red hair that don’t come from a bottle.”  Folding her arms and looking down at Buffy who was absently shoving fries into her mouth, Gina said, “Go home.  Go back to him.  Find out what’s going on before you decide to run.”  
  
“How come you’re so big with the advice?”  
  
“Everyone makes mistakes.  Trick is how you fix ‘em.”  
  
With that bit of advice, Gina turned her back and walked away.  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
Her belly was really full for the first time in days.  Gina had fed her, placing a bowl of chicken and rice down in front of her when it looked like Buffy was going to get up and leave.  Then she’d gotten her more hot chocolate.  And when then that was done, she plopped down a slice of apple pie.  Gina hadn’t said another word to her, not about anything.  Not the food.  Not Will.  
  
Which Buffy was grateful for because she had way too much to think about now.  
  
Her eyes were drooping and she stifled a jaw-cracking yawn.  _Maybe Gina’s right. . . maybe I should just go see him one more time before I leave. . . just to say goodbye._  
  
Mind made up, Buffy took out a twenty and looked around for Gina.  She caught the busboy watching her and she started to ask him for her check when he said, in heavily accented English, “All paid, missy.  No worries.”    
  
Buffy whirled around, looking for any other waitress or the cashier but none of them was around, only the busboy, who just smiled at her, then walked back into the kitchen.  
  
She shrugged, then bundled up before leaving.  
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
  
Will was listening to the CD Buffy had given him as part of his Christmas gift – bootlegged live Sex Pistols – his mind and heart numb.  He was beginning to lose all hope.  It had been almost fifteen days she’d been gone and the ache wasn’t any better.  He knew it was worse.  Drusilla had called around lunchtime, though it was now around four and he was debating with himself about going out now to search for her.  He’d been out searching all night until eleven this morning and then he’d come home to try and rest for a bit before going back out.  
  
 _It’s time.  Would rather be out there searching than in here thinking about it.  Gonna find her.  Gotta find her.  I’m drowning without her._   Lifting his eyes upwards, Will said a quick prayer and then in a fit of inspiration, he addressed the heavens once more.  “C’mon, mum. . . help me find her.”  
  
Will grabbed his duster, shrugging it on, then snagged the drawing of Buffy he’d sketched over two weeks ago.  Staring down at it, he asked, “Where are you love?  Why won’t you come home?”  
  
Sighing deeply, Will opened his front door, noting the cold weather and hint of rain in the air.  Turning up his collar, Will locked his door and descended the short stoop, his eyes on the DeSoto.  Shadows were just beginning to lengthen, nightfall closing in quickly and at first Will thought the darker shadow against the side of the old car was a trick of the light, but then it moved, and he caught a glimmer of dark gold.  His breathing stopped and his heart and stomach lurched.  _Oh please god. . . can’t take this if you’re just fucking with me.  Can’t . . . it’s gotta be her._  
  
On silent feet he moved closer, hoping, praying with every step.  Tears streamed unchecked from his suddenly blurry eyes and Will shook them off, unblinking, afraid the shadow would disappear.  
  
 _Feet . . . tiny boots. . . jean clad legs. . ._ Will raised his eyes a bit . . . _oh fuck.  
  
Fuckin’ Jesus.  Bloody fuckin’ hell._  
  
She was curled up on the driveway, her head resting by the front wheel well, sound asleep.  
  
Buffy was here.  
 _  
She’s home._  
  
Will knelt down in front of her, his hand brushing softly against her cheek and let the tears fall once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from an Alice Cooper song.


	23. Madness in love

_**Twenty-third.  Madness in love  
  
  
Oh how quiet, quiet the world can be   
when it's just you and little me   
everything is clear, everything is new   
so you won't be leaving will you   
  
and if you're cold, I'll keep you warm   
if you're low, just hold on   
cos I will be your safety   
oh don't leave home   
    Dido, Don’t Leave Home, from the album Life for Rent   
  
For it was not into my ear you whispered,   
but into my heart.   
It was not my lips you kissed,   
but my soul.  
    Judy Garland   
  
There is always some madness in love.   
But there is also always some reason in madness.   
    Friedrich Nietzsche, On Reading and Writing  
  
When love is not madness, it is not love.   
    Pedro Calderon de la Barca**_  
                          
  
  
She barely stirred when he lifted her into his shaking arms, murmuring his name, falling into a deeper sleep.  Didn’t wake when he laid her down on his bed.  Not when he took off her boots, her coat, not even when he kissed her forehead.  But he honestly didn’t care.  She was here with him.  That was the only thing that mattered.  
  
 _Buffy. . ._ Will stared down at her sleeping peacefully in his bed and made a promise to himself – he was going to sleep beside her every night from that night until he breathed his last.  He was never ever going to go through this again.  It would kill him.  
  
Placing another kiss on her forehead, Will unbuckled and took off his boots, shrugged off his duster and climbed into bed beside her.  His arms went around her, pulling her into his embrace and Will closed his eyes, a litany of thanks filling his head.  
  
It wasn’t long before he too slipped into sleep.  
  
  
***************************************************************  
  
  
 _Warm. . . safe._   Buffy shifted in her sleep unconsciously responding to his nearness.  Sleepily she settled in, her hands burrowing closer to the source of that delicious warmth.  Whatever she was sleeping on was hard and not so comfy, but it was warm, warmer than she’d been in days.  She shifted again and the warmth shifted with her and a deep rumble sounded under her ear.  
  
The last thing she remembered was leaving the diner and slowly walking toward Will’s house, trying to figure out what to tell him, what to say to him, how to explain what had happened.  Why she was leaving. . . when leaving him was the very last thing she wanted to do.   But she couldn’t stay if he was going to jail because of her.  She couldn’t do it.  She couldn’t live with herself knowing that she was the cause of his misery and pain.  The last thing she wanted was to do that to him.  He’d had enough of that in his life.  She could sense it, could read between the lines when he talked about his parents and Drusilla.  It didn’t matter that being without him would be the end of her, that she’d never love anyone ever again.   He’d be safe.    
  
That would have to be enough.  
  
Buffy had stopped in front of his house, all at once afraid to go knock on his door.  Afraid to see him, in case he hated her now, didn’t want anything to do with her.  Or worse, that he was still in jail and unable to see her.  She didn’t register the loud music coming from his stereo, or the lights or anything else.  Her fear blinded her to the fact that he was home, safe, and all she had to do was go knock.  Buffy slumped down in front of his big black car, the one that was older than both of them, and she stuffed her fist into her mouth to stop the sobs from echoing in the later afternoon quiet.  Resting her head against the solid steel, Buffy closed her eyes, saying a prayer for his safety.  
  
She was dreaming again.  Dreaming the same dream, her favorite, that she was curled up in Will’s arms, in his bed, her body meshed with his.  His hands holding her, his lips against her.  Buffy fought opening her eyes when she felt those lips move and the rumbling begin again.  A small smile crossed her features, wistful and sad, when a strong hand cupped her cheek.  
  
“Not dreamin’, kitten.  This is real.”  
  
Her eyes opened to find him looking at her steadily, his warm hand brushing across her skin.  “I’m so sorry. . . I just . . . I’m sorry about your job and everything and . . .” Her voice broke on a sob and she buried her face against his strong chest, weeping out her sorrow and despair.  
  
It was long minutes before he could calm her enough to listen, though eventually his quiet tones broke through her tears.  
  
“Wasn’t us, sweetheart.  Wasn’t. . . I swear it.  Was someone in LA.  No one caught us, baby.  Shhhhh.  Wasn’t us.  We’re safe.  You’re safe.  ‘ve got you, baby.”  
  
Buffy listened, drained and unable to function beyond wrapping her arms around him.  “I’m so stupid.  Just heard about it and. . .”  
  
Before the tears could start again, Will shushed her by brushing his thumb over her lips.  “Kitten, listen to me.  Please?  No tears.”  He kissed her closed eyes, his voice soft, rumbling between them.  “Know what happened that morning, or close enough.  Lemme guess, okay?  Sshhhh.”  
  
Absently running his thumb over her cheek, Will said, “Must’ve woken up feeling poorly again, maybe running late on a count of that.  And your mum decided to talk about the money, yeah?  Only it wasn’t talking was it?”  
  
She started to speak, but his strong deep voice washed over her, not allowing her to interrupt.  “Giles saw your face that morning and your wrist.  Things got a bit rough, yeah. . . an’ then there was Snyder.  Bleedin’ wanker making a joke of your problems.  So it was already a fucked up morning for you.”  
  
Tears started flowing from her eyes, though she wasn’t sobbing, which Will took as a good sign.  “Did you overhear a news bulletin or was someone yapping about the arrest?”  
  
He waited a heartbeat and when she struggled to answer, he shook his head.  “Doesn’t matter sweetheart.  What matters is you thought it was all over, everything.”  
  
“Will. . .” Buffy curled into his arms, once more burying her face into his chest.   
  
“Buffy.  Sssshhhh.  C’mon, baby.  Everything’s okay now.  You’re home. . . safe.”  He rocked her into his arms, holding her tight against him.  “You’re home, baby.”  
  
  
****************************************************************  
  
  
She was quiet for so long, he thought she’d almost gone back to sleep, but she surprised him when she started talking.  “I’m sorry.  I just. . . it was so crazy that morning.  And when I heard that I just . . . I panicked.”  
  
They were lying on his bed, her head resting on his chest and Buffy’s voice sounded so lost that Will couldn’t stop his reaction.  His arms tightened around her, the hand that was resting on her back flexed and he growled.    
  
“No one knows, kitten.  Well, not who you think anyway.  Willow guessed and somehow Rupert sussed it out, but that’s it.  Hell, your mother thinks you’ve been hiding at Willow’s in a snit.”  
  
“Wouldn’t be the first time.  My mom’s kind of . . . volatile.”  That last came out in a whisper and Will brushed a kiss against her temple.  
  
“Eeeww.  No.  I’m gross.”  Buffy moved away from him, shaking her head.  “I so need to shower. . . can I?”  
  
“Sure.”  He got up from the bed, opening a drawer.  “I . . . ah. . . snuck in through your window and got some stuff.”  Will motioned to it, but Buffy wasn’t paying attention.  
  
“My stuff – my backpack – there’s stuff in there that could be washed.”  Buffy looked around frantically for it.  
  
“Didn’t see it.  Was only worried ‘bout you kitten.  It should still be out there.”  Pushing her toward the bathroom, Will said, “Go on, I’ll find it.”  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
On shaky feet Buffy headed for the bathroom, her mind blank.  The room was warm and she stared at the taps for a moment before realizing it wasn’t a dream.  There was no way she could be dreaming something this good.  
  
The water heated up the room, steaming the mirror and she stripped out of her clothes, looking for a garbage pail to throw them in.  She couldn’t find one and not feeling like looking, she left them on the floor, then practically dove under the shower spray.  The hot water was both soothing and invigorating, her groan of bliss echoed in the quiet room, and Buffy felt like she’d gotten a bit of a second wind.  
  
Finding shampoo and soap was simple, though she wrinkled her nose at the selection.  Buffy was about to dump the shampoo into her hair when Will’s voice startled her into a soft yelp.  
  
“Got some girly stuff for you, sweetheart.”  He said as he rummaged in a closet.  
  
“What?”  
  
His voice sounded sheepish.  “Asked Red what you like.”    
  
As he pushed his hand through the shower curtain, presenting the offered items, she squeaked.  “For me?  You bought this?”  
  
There was a long pause, then Will said, “Yeah.”  
  
He sounded like there was more to the explanation so, emboldened by his openness so far and the curtain between them, she asked, “Why?”  
  
Waiting a moment before answering, Will finally said, “B’cause I want you to stay.  With me.”  
  
“Oh.”  She could hear him moving around behind the curtain, but she couldn’t tell what he was doing through the material.  “Will?”  How long. . . do you want. . .”  
  
Her words died away when the shower curtain opened and he stared at her.  “Till I get over this.”  
  
Trying to cover herself a bit, Buffy stared back at him over her shoulder, shampoo suds dripping down her back.  “How long is that gonna take?”  
  
“Five or six. . . hundred years, at least.”  He said it with such a straight face that Buffy wasn’t sure what he said at first, then, when it finally registered, she giggled.  “Not bloody joking, sweetheart.  You scared me.  ‘M not letting you go.”  
  
She turned to face him, forgetting she was in the shower and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.  “You mean that?”  
  
“Course I do, kitten.  Never gonna let you go.”  His arms pulled her closer and she slipped against the slick bottom, teetering backwards.  Will hauled her forward, fingers digging into her hips, but he stopped her from getting hurt.  
  
“Oops.  You’re all wet now.”  Buffy pulled at his tee-shirt, giggling helplessly.  
  
Will leered down at her naked soapy body.  “All part of my plan, kitten.”  Letting her go, Will stripped out of his jeans while she tugged at his sopping shirt.  
  
He stepped into the shower behind her, nudging her forward, under the hot water.  Her back to him, he threaded his fingers into her soapy hair, massaging her scalp.  Buffy sighed, unconsciously leaning back against him, the fatigue stealing through her.  “It’s all right, baby, ‘ve got you.”  
  
“I’m soo tired.”  He positioned her so that the water rinsed the shampoo, then added a healthy amount of conditioner to her hair.  She mumbled something sleepily at him, and Will let her head rest against his shoulder while he washed her arms.  His hands cupped her breasts from behind, his thumbs and forefingers rolling the heat-softened nipples between them.  Her arms lifted up, curling around his head, resting against the nape of his neck.  His soapy hands washed over her, running up and down her torso, and she could feel his breathing start to labor, matching her own.  “Will?”  
  
“Shhh. . . not gonna. . . just wanna touch you, kitten.  Need to.”  Deep and low, his voice washed over her as his hands did the same.  Leaving his right at her breasts, Will let his left hand drift down over her slightly rounded belly, toward the curls covering her sex.  His thumb brushed past her navel, his fingers curling around her.  Buffy tensed a little, but his soft rumble calmed her, even as his hands roused her body.    
  
His erection was cradled between them, hard and wanting against her flesh, but Will did nothing to pressure her.  This was enough for him, for the moment.  Just holding her had been enough, now he was touching her, running his big hands over her tiny form.  Will leaned down and kissed her shoulder, nibbling a little as he did.  She ran one hand over his arm, tightening herself against him as flashes of need pulsed through her, responding to his touch.    
  
Open-mouthed kisses interspersed with gentle bites rained across her shoulders and the back of her neck.  Buffy shivered despite the heat of the water, her body awakening under his subtle touch.  She gasped, feeling the muscles beneath her skin bunch and thrum, her hand slide along his wet forearm, entwining their fingers together as he fondled her breasts.  His other fingers were just as engaged, kneading the soft folds of her pussy, his thumb circling her clit.  Buffy arched into his hand, her head bowed back against his upper chest, little gasps escaping from her open mouth.  Will’s voice rasped out as he tasted her skin, “Is what you do when we’re on the phone. . . do you touch yourself _here_?”   
  
Pressing his thumb hard into her clit, Will ground out, “Or like _this_?”  
  
Using his middle finger, Will thrust into her, feeling her core surround him in silken wetness.  “Do you pretend it’s me doing this?”  He quickened the pace, adding another finger, “It’s me now, though baby, _me_ holding you. . . _me_ touching you.“  
  
Buffy convulsed around him, reacting as much to his words as his touch and he could feel the tremors coursing through her.  She turned her head, nipping his chin, pulling at the skin with her teeth, licking the water from his face.  He turned to kiss her, his lips and tongue playing with hers.  She whispered his name, angling in his arms and he pulled back, even as his hand slid over her hip, fingers slipping into her pussy from behind.  “Kitten . . . wanna be inside you. . . wanna feel you around me. . . . “  
  
“Will.  Oh god, _Will_. . . need you.”  He placed gentle kisses over her wet face, groaning when her warm hand circled his erection.    
  
“Fuck. . .  Buffy. . .” He jerked hard, nearly cuming at the first up and down slide of her hand, his grip on her leaving fingertip sized marks.  He struggled to lift her soap slicked body in his arms, pressing hard to get purchase.  “Need you, baby . . . so . . .”  
  
Unable to grab a steady hold of her, Will pushed aside the shower curtain, spraying water all over the bathroom in his haste.  Grabbing the first towels he could find, he wrapped one around her and let the other drop to the floor.  Stepping out of the tub and turning off the water in the same motion, Will turned back to her and lifted Buffy into his arms.  His mouth licked the water from her collarbone as he murmured softly, “Gonna do you right, baby. . . gonna make you _mine_. . . god, I _need_ you. . .”  
  
“Need you too.”  Buffy wrapped her arm around his neck as he cradled her in his arms.  “Will, I missed you so much.”  
  
He lurched into the hallway, into his bedroom, struggling to hold onto her and his desire.  “Baby.  . . I missed you.  So worried ‘bout you. . . . damn near lost m’mind.”  
  
Will placed her gently down on his bed, smiling a little bit when her hands pulled him down after her.  “Don’t leave me, Will.”  
  
“Never, baby.”  He kissed her, his tongue begging entry into her depths as his body settled atop hers.  The towel separated them and Will pushed it up and away, his fingers sliding into her wet pussy.  Her gasp of surprise stilled his urgent movements and Will broke off their kiss, letting his mouth rain kisses over her still wet skin.  “Need you, Buffy. . . so fucking much.”  
  
Nudging the towel down past her breasts, Will sucked a nipple into his mouth and Buffy nearly bucked him off her.  “Oh _god_. . .   Will!”  
  
Silver light pulsed behind her closed eyes and nonsensical babblings spewed from her lips as he suckled her hyper-sensitive nipples.  Two fingers surged inside her and Buffy’s inner walls clamped down, fluttering around his thrusting digits.  His name peeled from her, high-pitched and quavering.  Switching breasts, Will nudged her into prolonged orgasm, reveling in her responses.  
  
Buffy writhed beneath him, unable to think, only conscious of waves of intense pleasure engulfing her.  Every lick, every pull of his mouth on her breasts sent shock waves straight to her womb, tightening her around his thrusting fingers, blinding her to everything but him.  She was frantic, nearly overcome.  
  
Her body shook, trembling uncontrollably, her hands holding him to her, fingers digging into his skin.  “Will. . . please. . . Will.”  
  
Teeth closed around her nipple and she screamed.  Will slid his arms underneath her, his mouth seeking hers, hips sliding between hers.  “Let me in. . . baby . . . need inside.”  
  
Cool lips covered her feverish ones and Will’s cock nudged against her clit, her nails digging into his hips.  “Please, Will . . . please.”  
  
Slipping one hand between them, Will positioned himself then paused, the head of his cock just resting inside her pussy.  “Mine. . .  Buffy.  From this moment. . . ‘m not letting you go.”  
  
Her eyes were opened, staring up into his and she smiled up at him, her hand sliding down to where his was between them, where they were almost joined together.  Buffy nodded, acknowledging his possession, her other hand wrapped around his neck.  Her eyes widened as he pushed his way in, feeling the stretch and burn of her body struggling to accommodate his true size.  Panting, she whispered, “Yours. . . Will .. . always.”  
  
Tears slid from her eyes and he braced himself on his elbows, slowly sliding inside her tight silky wetness.  “ _Fuck_. . . god. . . kitten. . . so tight.”  
  
“Will . . . oh. . .yours. . . only yours. . . wanna stay. . .” Her fingers dug into his ass, holding him against her.  “Big. . . unnnhhhhh. . .   Will . . . so big.”  
  
She was tiny, inside and out, and her pussy was strangling his cock and he wasn’t going to last long because of it.  He thrust inside her, a grunted gasp escaping from both of them.  Sweat was dripping from him onto her and he slid one arm beneath her leg, changing the angle of his penetration and Will felt every centimeter of her surrounding him as he finally slid all the way inside her.  “Fuck.”  
  
Buffy shrieked as his cock bumped her cervix and hit the spongy mass inside her and Will lost all semblance of control.  With short hard thrusts he pounded into her and they were both gasping desperately for air.  
  
She nipped his chin and he grinned, diving in, his mouth capturing hers in a searing kiss, his hips not ceasing their movement.  Sliding his other arm under her leg, Will’s eyes nearly rolled back as he slid even more fully into her and Buffy gripped his shoulders, drawing blood.  “Will . . . _Will_!”  
  
Her pussy tightened, fluttering around his cock and his control finally, truly shattered.  Growling out her name as her orgasm triggered his, Will dropped her legs, collapsing atop her.  
  
Buffy wrapped her shaking legs around him, even as he continued to thrust inside her.  Gulping in heaving breaths, Will tried to get his body to move, but his muscles were mush, completely useless.  Buffy gasped, arching up into him, her pussy clamping tightly around his soft cock.  Every muscle was shaking and she couldn’t stop the tremors.  Gathering her into his arms, Will rolled so they were lying face to face, her leg thrown over his hip.  “Sshhhh. . . baby, ‘ve got you.”  
  
“Will?  Oh god, Will. . . can’t stop shaking.”  Breathy and quavering, her voice bypassed his brain and went right to his cock, waking the insatiable beast.  
  
“Aftershocks, kitten.  It’ll be okay.”  Her tiny hand held onto his hip, the other cradled between them.  
  
Will pulled her close, brushing strands of drying hair away from her features.  A smile crossed his features, igniting a twinkle in his eyes.  That smile blossomed into a full blown grin when she looked up at him, whispering, “Can we do that for the next five or six hundred years?”  
  
He chuckled, brushing a kiss on her lips.  “Can do that forever if you want.”  
  
She grinned back at him, flexing her hips.  “Buffy wants.   Does Will?”  
  
“Fuck yeah.”  He indicated his enthusiasm for the prospect by playfully slapping her ass.  
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
  
They’d cuddled for a bit, neither one inclined to move, until Buffy’s body made its other needs known.  Her belly growled, embarrassing her, but Will shushed her, sliding from the bed as he asked her what she wanted to eat.  
  
Without thinking too hard, she answered, “Waffles?  And bacon.”  
  
Not batting an eye at her request, Will said, “Got both if you don’t mind frozen and rashers.”    
  
Her “huh?”  prompted him to pull her from the bed.  Tossing her one of his shirts, Will slid on a pair of sweats and dragged her into the kitchen.  
  
Standing in front of the open freezer and refrigerator, Will tossed her a package of frozen waffles and grabbed the bacon.  “Frozen waffles, pet, an’ rashers.  Not bacon like you Yanks have.  Looks like this.”  Placing it under her nose, Will waited for her to refuse his offer.  
  
Instead Buffy shrugged, asking, “Got maple syrup?”  
  
He grinned, pointing at the fridge.  “Do you one better.  Got that or strawberries an’ cream.”  
  
A dreamy look crept into her eyes.  “Oh. . . can I have all that?”  
  
“Sure thing, pet.”  
  
And Will proceeded to cook her breakfast at two-thirty in the morning.  
  
  
**************************************************************  
  
  
Her belly full and body clean for the first time since she’d run away, Buffy burped, ending it in a helpless giggle, covering her mouth.  Will raised an eyebrow, causing more giggles and she struggled to say “Excuse me” through her laughter.  
  
Will leaned back against the kitchen cabinets, just watching her, his eyes tracking her every movement.  She seemed unchanged, although the pain and sadness in her eyes was still present, he knew it wasn’t because of him.  Buffy glanced at him, feeling his steady gaze upon her and a blush bloomed across her skin, brightening her features.  Shyly ducking her head, Buffy busied herself with picking at the remains of her breakfast, licking the maple syrup from her fingers.  “Thank you.”  
  
“For?”  He shifted, crossing his arms and widening his stance.  
  
“Everything.”  She shrugged, unable to come up with anything more elaborate or eloquent.  “For everything.”  
  
“Haven’t done anything, kitten.”    
  
She was shaking her head before the final words left his mouth.  “No Will, not _anything_.  You’ve done _everything_ for me.  You . . . take care of me. . . you. . .”   She turned away from the table, looking up at him.  “If I asked you to slay dragons for me, I think you’d find a way.”  
  
His smile was lopsided, and he nodded his head, watching her.  “I’d probably try.”  
  
“See, that’s what I mean.  You do everything.  And I don’t know how to thank you.”  Buffy shook her head, fighting sudden tears.    
  
“Hey, shush.”  Will pushed away from the counter, heading straight for her.  Lifting her up into his arms, he cuddled her close.    
  
“Sorry.  I’m waterworks girl.”  She laid her head down on his shoulder, toying with the curls at his nape.  
  
His voice was a low rumble against her and it took her more than a minute to understand what he said.  “I like you all wet.”  
  
Her hand slapped playfully against his bare chest and Will let out a low yelp.  Buffy giggled, saying, “That was bad.”  
  
“Yeah, that’s me, sweetheart.  Bad.”  The leer in his voice wasn’t hard to miss and Buffy curled closer into his arms.    
  
He felt her yawn and he carried her into his bedroom, saying, “Let’s get you back into bed.”  
  
“Mmmmm.  Gonna stay with me?”  Buffy kissed his jaw, nipping at his earlobe.  
  
“Couldn’t drag me out.”  
  
Her soft breath washed over him, raising goose-flesh on his arms.  “Ooohhhhh. . . .   Will?”    
  
“Yeah, princess?”  His answering rumble was a low murmur that made the bottom of her belly quiver.  
  
“We . . . can we. . .  You know?”   Her hands were smoothing over his muscles and she pulled him closer, her mouth up against his ear.  
  
“Baby, if you can’t say it. . .”   Will threaded his hands through her hair, holding her away so that he could look into her eyes.    
  
“I wanna feel you again. . .”  
  
He smirked at her, his tongue poking out between his teeth, melting her insides.  “Good enough for government work.”


	24. To feel the sun.

_**Twenty-fourth.  To feel the sun.  
  
To love and be loved is to feel the sun from both sides.   
    David Viscott, How to Live with Another Person  
  
Love is everything it's cracked up to be…  
It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for.   
    Erica Jong, O Magazine, February 2004  
  
There is no remedy for love but to love more.   
    Henry David Thoreau, Journal, July 25, 1839  
  
The way to love anything is to realize that it might be lost.   
    Gilbert Keith Chesterton   
  
Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength;   
loving someone deeply gives you courage.  
    Lao-Tzu  
  
This was love at first sight, love everlasting:  
a feeling unknown, unhoped for, unexpected- in so  
far as it could be a matter of conscious awareness;   
it took entire possession of him, and he understood,   
with joyous amazement, that this was for life.   
    Thomas Mann **_  
  
  
Despite the yawns, Buffy wasn’t really all that tired.  What she had wanted was exactly what she got, to be back in bed, doing nothing but lying next to Will.  Listening to the comforting thump of his heart beneath her ear, she drew random patterns on his skin, following the dip and folds, watching his chest rising and falling with each inhalation.  His hand was doing the same to her back, his warm touch soothing her.  They were lying in the rumpled sheets, their bodies replete after the second bout of sex, neither one of them inclined to talk.    
  
There was too much that needed saying and yet nothing had to be verbalized – the situation they were now in couldn’t be avoided for long – but somehow neither one of them wanted to be the one to breach the bubble and shatter their current peace.  That last indefinable line separating them as teacher and student had been crossed, leading them literally into no-man’s land, a place filled with dangers and pitfalls, where any misstep could lead them into disaster.  Too many people already knew, or suspected about their relationship.  _What we need is time_ , Will thought, _time to solidify things between us, before we have to face the rest of the bloody world._  
  
He didn’t want to bring it up, didn’t want to have to deal with the repercussions of their actions – of facing exactly what he’d done by taking her into his bed, by loving her, by making love with her.  But it was there, the proverbial elephant tucked away in the corner, and he knew he had to face it.  Couldn’t hide from it forever.  He doubted they could get through the weekend without bringing it up.  Not that he wanted to run from it.  He knew how he felt, knew what he wanted.  Pretending otherwise was just going to cause him, and her, more heartbreak.  And that he wasn’t willing to live with.  _Nah, not doing that.  
_  
Nor was he going to make the same mistake he’d made the last time she was here in his house, in his bed.  This time, she was going to stay put.  Here, in his arms, where she belonged.  He wasn’t going to let her go, slip through his fingers like some illusory magical creature.  
  
There were just a couple of things he needed to know, before he squared off against the rest of the world to fight for her.  _Just . . . a few . . ._   “When’s your birthday?”  
  
If she was confused by his question, she didn’t show it, because she answered right away, “The nineteenth.”  
  
Will almost didn’t believe it.  “Do you know what today is, kitten?”  
  
“Um.  No.”  She continued to run her fingers over his chest, unconcerned by his answer.  
  
“Today’s the eighteenth.”    
  
“Oh.  Tomorrow I’ll be eighteen.”  Her voice was so flat that Will stopped breathing, pulling her up so that their faces were close together and he could see into her eyes.  
  
“What’s wrong?”    
  
“Nothing.”  She looked away, unwilling to meet his gaze.    
  
He lifted up on one elbow, dumping her flat onto the mattress.  “Buffy.  Don’t lie to me.”    
  
She tried to shrug, but their positions wouldn’t allow for the gesture, instead she looked away from him, then started speaking softly.  “Never expected to be in . . . I’m gonna be eighteen and I’m pregnant.  Baby’s father is a . . . big jerk,  my father is . . . a jerk.   I got thrown out of school.  Nothing’s the way I thought it was gonna be.”  She fought tears then whispered very softly, “The only good thing in my life is you.”  
  
The back of his hand brushed over her cheek and Will waited a moment before speaking, trying to figure out how to say what he was feeling.  “Look at me.”    
  
Wet lashes covered her eyes and Buffy fought looking at him for a long moment, afraid that all she would find in his eyes was pity.  His voice washed over her, his words like balm to her soul.  “Your father is an ass.  What he did, kitten, was so wrong that he better hope it’s a long time before I actually meet the man.”  Her hand circled his wrist, her nails digging into his skin when his next words sounded in the air.  “As for Riley Finn – he’s not . . . he doesn’t deserve to be baby’s father.”  
  
Her eyes flew open, desperate to find the truth in his gaze.  “Neither of them deserves you, princess, and your mum also has a bit to answer for. . .”   His fingers grasped hers and Will inhaled deeply, gathering his courage.  “I’m not sorry for any of this.  Not sorry what brought you to me, b’cause you are my world, princess.  I’m drowning an’ I don’t wanna be saved.  I wanna . . .”     
  
Will sat up, his bare hip brushing her shoulder and he turned to look down at her.  “I meant it before, when I said you were mine.  But I didn’t mean just you, Buffy, I meant both of you.”  His hand rested possessively against her belly, his eyes never straying from hers.  “Don’t care how or why this baby got here, or who supplied the DNA.”  His voice took on a feral quality and she shivered from the intensity of his emotions.  “You are mine.  Both of you.  And tomorrow dammit, I’m gonna marry you.”  
  
She froze, uncertain of what she’d just heard, afraid she’d dreamed it or that she was asleep and still dreaming.  Her eyes flew to his, and when she didn’t see doubt or anything other than the truth staring back at her, Buffy inhaled.  Opening her mouth to say something, she stopped, then stared up at him again.    
  
The silence was deep and all she could think was of him and his eyes, his arms, his body shielding her.  “Will?  Do you love me?”  
  
“Do I?”  A shaky laugh welled up from his chest.   “ God, kitten. . . so much that I can’t breathe without you.”  
  
Fresh tears sprang to her eyes, dripping down her cheeks, pooling against his side as she buried her face against him.  She was shaking, weeping, and Will couldn’t, didn’t know what to do, or what caused it.  “Hey, ssshhh. . . please, baby, don’t cry.”  
  
She was mumbling something incoherent against his skin and Will dropped down beside her, his arms circling her and holding her.  “Please, baby. . . talk to me.“  
  
 ”I. . . oh god. . . I love you too.”  Buffy clutched at him, her tears overwhelming her, the shaking increasing as her emotions crashed.  It was too much, the stresses of the last couple of weeks hitting her all at once and Buffy couldn’t stop her body’s reactions.  
  
Will rolled over her, his body trapping hers, and Buffy’s legs automatically wrapped around him.  She was sore, her tiny body unused to his size, and she flinched markedly when he slid his erection into her depths.  “Sshhhh. . . ‘ve got you baby.  Not letting go.”  
  
He didn’t move, just held fast within her, assuring her with his body what his words couldn’t do. His lips caught her tears, swallowing them, washing away her sorrow, slowly, inexorably replacing it with peace and, much later, joy.  
  
  
****************************************************  
  
  
Hours later he woke, to the odd sensation of being trapped, unable to move any of his limbs.  Will cracked open an eye, his mind unclear until he glimpsed the dark golden hair spread across his pillow.  Spun gold strands caught and held the winter sunlight streaming through his window and Will tightened his hold on her, his hips flexing into her.  His fingers tightened around the curve of her ass and Will rocked his burgeoning erection into the cradle of her thighs.  
  
Sometime during the early morning hours, he’d rolled onto his side, bringing her with him.  After he’d made his impassioned declaration, they’d made slow languid love, his cock barely moving within her until their simultaneous orgasms washed over them, lulling them into healing sleep.  
  
Buffy was still slumbering, her breasts brushing against his chest, her entire form pressed against him.  Will curled his bigger leg over hers, anchoring her to him.  His eyes settled on her still sleeping face and he leaned forward to brush feather-soft kisses over her.  Buffy woke to the feeling of his lips moving gently over her face, though she kept her eyes closed.  Not in fear this time, no, this time she wanted this sweet moment to never end, wanted to bask in the glow, to feel for just a little longer how much he loved her.  
  
Slowly and oh-so reluctantly, Buffy opened her eyes.   
  
“And Sleeping Beauty awakens.”  Will leaned a little away so that he could look into her eyes.  
  
“Guess that makes you Prince Charming?”  His grin was more of a smirk but Buffy didn’t mind.  For the first time in a very long while she felt safe and warm and loved.  “Or should I call you Prince Handsome?”  
  
He snorted, mock grumbling at her.  “Makes me sound like a prat.”  
  
Her quizzical expression softened him.  “A jerk.  Sort of. . . hard to . . yeah.  Never mind.”  
  
“Ah huh.”  Buffy gripped his bicep, her hand squeezing tight.  A sudden serious light entered her eyes.  “Will?  Did you mean what you said before?”  
  
Without wondering why she was asking or what specifically she was referring too, Will replied.  “Every last word.”  
  
“Um. . . when you said. . . that thing about marrying.  Did you really mean today?”    
  
The look on her face was one he’d never seen before and now he was curious.  “Why?”    
  
She blushed, ducking her head shyly.  “Promise you won’t laugh at me?”  
  
“Promise.”  He waited for her to explain, but when the silence drew out between them, he prompted her.  “What is it?”  
  
Her voice was shy and somewhat strained.  “Can I go shopping first?  I don’t have much money but I don’t wanna get married in any of the clothes I have and I promise I’ll pay you back.”  
  
“No.”  
  
She nearly burst into tears and she started to ask him why, but he cleared his throat, and when he spoke his voice was thick with emotion.   “Sorry.  Didn’t mean for it to sound like that.  I . . . you don’t have to worry ‘bout money.  You pick out whatever you want to wear.  Hell, you get a whole brand new whatever you want.  Jus’ no talk of payin’ me back.”    
  
Buffy nodded once, unable to speak.  Will rolled away from her then got up out of bed.  He was talking, but she wasn’t paying attention to his words until he sat down beside her, a serious look on his face and something enclosed in one of his hands.  “Buffy?  You with me?”  
  
“Yup.  Paying attention girl.”  
  
Reaching for her left hand, Will said, “Was going to wait, till it was safe, until you were out of school, but I can’t.  ‘ve had this since before Christmas.”  He opened his hand and there, resting on his palm, was a diamond ring.  
  
Buffy stared down at it, her breath caught in her throat.  The only thing she could focus on was what he’d just said.  “Before Christmas?”  
  
“Yeah.”  He drew the word out, making it sound like a confession of sorts.  Which it was.  “It’s yours kitten, whether you wanna get married today, tomorrow, in a week, or five or six hundred years from now, doesn’t matter.  Marry me, kitten . . . please?”  
  
With a very unsteady hand, Buffy tentatively reached for it.  Her fingers brushed over it, skimming over his skin, sending bolts of awareness through them both.  Lifting tear-filled eyes to his, Buffy smiled, whispering, “Put it on me. . .  And yes, Will.  Yes.”  
  
Hauling her into a sitting position, Will took her left hand in his bigger one and gently pushed the diamond onto her finger.  
  
Meshing their hands together, Will gathered her into his arms, kissing her deeply.  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
Sometime during the day, they managed to move into the living room, though neither one of them was much inclined to do a whole lot more than that.  Will had put some of her clothes into the wash with his and other than getting them both something to drink, that was the full extent of what he felt absolutely needed to be done.  There was an array of snacks laid out on the coffee table and Buffy was curled up under a blanket, her head resting on the couch’s arm, her eyes on the television, when he came back from tending to the laundry.  She lifted her arm, reaching for a pretzel and the light caught a diamond facet and he couldn’t help the huge grin that had found itself plastered all over his face.    
  
 _She’s nearly mine.  Not gonna let anything or anyone take her away from me.  Don’t care  what this . . not gonna worry about the school.  Not until we have to face it._ He looked up at the ceiling, realizing that facing it might happen sooner than he wanted.  It would be a lot easier if he had some sort of legal standing with her before the shit hit the fan, because that was inevitable or at the very least, highly probable.  He didn’t think he could keep her presence in his house a secret from Rupert very long and he figured she’d want to tell Willow that she was safe and where she was.  Given those two factors alone, sooner or later, one of them was bound to spill their story.  And once the story was out, he’d probably be fired.  But he was prepared for that, so long as he knew things with her were settled.  He could always find another job – wasn’t like his credentials weren’t top notch.  But he knew, or at least thought he did, that she wanted to stay in Sunnydale.  _Maybe she doesn’t. . . if it comes down to a move we have to make. . .  
_  
Will pushed those thoughts aside.  Wouldn’t pay to get focused on that far ahead.  _First things first, mate.  Gotta make this all proper before we take on the world._ He rounded the couch, idly noting that she was flipping through the channels, and he leaned down to brush a kiss across her lips before heading to the stack of DVDs he had.  “Would you rather watch a movie?”  
  
“Sure.  As long as it’s not something dopey.”  She shifted, starting to sit up, when Kennedy’s growl froze her movements.    
  
“Define dopey, pet.”  His back was still to her, so he couldn’t see what the dog was doing, but Buffy didn’t do anything more than speak.  “Kennedy, shut up.”  
  
“I dunno.  Just nothing stupid.”    
  
Pulling one from the stack, Will flipped open the player and turned to face her.  The damn dog was snarling soundlessly, teeth bared and slop dripping from her fangs, body poised to attack Buffy.  “What the fuck?  Kennedy!  Knock it off.”  
  
Will moved toward the dog and Buffy moved again, and instead of backing down from her master, the dog growled again and snapped at her.  “Kennedy!”  
  
Grabbing the dog’s collar, Will lifted the terrier off the floor and dragged her from the room, muttering about ungrateful mutts all the while.  Buffy was watching him and though she wanted to tell him to be nice to the dog, she had been too shaken up by the dog’s reaction.    
  
He came back into the room quickly, scooping her up off the couch into his arms.  “You okay?”  
  
“Yeah, I’m fine.”  His nose nuzzled against her hair and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her head resting against his face.  “That was weird.”  
  
“Damn dog doesn’t like anyone.  If she doesn’t knock it off, she’s gonna find herself without a home.”    
  
Buffy softly slapped his back, admonishing him a bit.  “That’s not nice.”  
  
“If it comes down to a choice between you two, the dog goes.”  He sat down on the couch, dragging the blanket up over both of them, then settled down to watch the movie.  Buffy settled next to him, pulled his arms around her, and got comfortable.   
  
 “ _Underworld_?  We’re gonna watch vampires and werewolves?”   She huffed a bit, rolling her eyes at him.  “You just wanna watch this because you think Kate what’s her name is hot.”  
  
“Well yeah, of course.  Is there any other reason to watch this?”      
  
She thought for a minute, then said, “Fine, but I get to pick the next one.”  
  
“Whatever you say, kitten.”    
  
  
****************************************************************  
  
  
After suffering through nearly two hours of Paul Walker, which had been Buffy’s choice, Will got up to actually fix them something to eat, since Buffy’s belly had been making grumbling noises during the last half hour of the Fast and the Furious.  She tried telling him she wasn’t all that hungry, but he just raised an eyebrow in her direction when the growls rumbled through her.      
  
Fixing pasta, Will insisted she sit and do nothing, but Buffy couldn’t sit still very long and she was up helping him before he realized it.  They worked well together, their movements smooth, unconsciously adapting to each other, and at one point it felt like this was something they’d been doing for a very long time.  Unwilling to disturb the peaceful mood, however knowing they were going to have to discuss it sooner or later; and now, when they were both relaxed and awake, was as good a time as any, Will finally composed his thoughts.  
  
Stirring the sauce, Will turned to eye her as she chopped up vegetables for salad.  “Are you going to call Willow, let her know you’re okay?”  
  
Buffy shrugged, dumping the peppers into the bowl, then grabbing a cucumber.  “I guess.  Maybe tomorrow.”  
  
He stopped, reaching out to touch her arm.  “You okay?”  
  
“Yeah.  I just don’t wanna have to talk about this with anyone but you right now.  Willow’s great, but. . .” She shrugged again, not really looking at him.  
  
“Buffy, you don’t have to pretend with me.”  His arms came around her from behind and she leaned into his chest, resting her head against his shoulder.  
  
“I know.  She just doesn’t get what I’m going through.  I can’t pretend that everything is okay and that things are gonna be normal by next Tuesday, because my life?  Not so big on the normal.”    
  
Will dropped a kiss on her shoulder, holding her for a long moment, then letting her go.  “I understand.”  
  
“Glad you do, because I’m not always sure I do.”  Buffy spoke from the depths of the refrigerator, while she searched for something else to put in the salad.  “You got any meatballs or something?”  

  
“Added meat to the sauce.”  He was going to have to break down and tell her that Rupert knew and he braced himself for her blow up.  “Giles knows.”  
  
She didn’t miss a beat, countering him with, “Have you called Drusilla?”  
  
He had the grace to look sheepish.  “Yeah.  I did.  She wanted to know if, she asked me if Peaches should come down and help look.”  
  
Buffy glanced over the top of the refrigerator door at that.  “Who is Peaches?”  
  
“Liam.  Dru’s dead weight husband.”    
  
“Why do you call him Peaches?”  She stared at him, waiting for an explanation, curiosity written large on her face.  
  
Will glanced away, trying to decide what to tell her. _Ah well, she might as well know._   “Coz  when we were younger, he bared his arse and well, he had peach fuzz on it.  ‘S been Peaches ever since.”  
  
Buffy exploded in giggles, doubling over with mirth.  “Oh my god.  That’s . . . that’s really funny.”    
It took her long minutes to calm down and she had to keep wiping her eyes.  “So when did you tell Giles?”  
  
“Didn’t.  He sussed it out on his own.  Came to me and offered to help search the other night.”  Will watched her closely, gauging her reaction.  When no angry or tear-filled outburst came, he said, “He doesn’t know for certain how . . . what. . . all the bloody details, pet, but he’s liable to put it all together in his head.”  
  
“So you’re telling me that the only people who know are Willow, Mr. Giles, and Drusilla?”  Buffy looked down at the floor, biting her lower lip.  “And my mom thinks I’ve been hiding out at Will’s for the past two weeks.”  
  
“That about sums it up.”  He folded his arms across his chest, his eyes intent upon her face.    
  
“Will?  Are you sure Xander doesn’t know? Or Cordelia?”    
  
“Harris knows you were missing, doesn’t know about us.  Far as I know, Cordelia knows what the whelp does.  Beyond that, don’t think anyone else has been paying all that close attention.”  She finally closed the refrigerator door, then rested a small hand on his crossed arms.    
  
“So we have some time then, right?”  At his reluctant nod, Buffy smiled.  “Which means I can shop before we . . . where do you wanna get married?”    
  
“Was thinking we could head to Vegas in the morning.”  Her face fell and he reached out to brush a hand over her hair.  “What’s wrong?”  
  
“Can we wait until next weekend?”  She was back to biting her lip, which he found completely riveting, his eyes focused intently on them.  
  
“Baby, I think we,” he paused, his eyes roving over her face.  “I want do this soon as possible, but if you really want to wait the week, we will.”  
  
“Please?  I’m so . . . I, just.”  She rested her head on his arms and Will opened them to embrace her.  “I’m still exhausted and I probably wouldn’t be much fun this weekend if we had to go.   And besides, we can leave Friday and get married on Saturday and then come home Sunday, right?”  
  
He couldn’t resist her when she looked at him like that.  “We could do that.  It’s a five hour drive, kitten.  Would you rather fly?”  
  
“I’ll leave that up to you.  I can’t drive, so it’s whatever you wanna do.”    
  
He thought about it for a few minutes, then said, “We’ll fly.”  
  
“So can we go shopping tomorrow?”  The prospect had her eyes lighting up and Will mentally calculated his bank balances.  
  
“Sure, kitten, we can do that.”  
  
“Yippeee!”  She hugged him tight, making a face when her stomach growled again.  “Need food.  Feed me.”  
  
“Greedy wench.”  He swung her up into his arms, dropping her down on the counter top.  “Dinner’ll be ready in five.”


	25. Yielding to temptation

**_Twenty-fifth.  Yielding to temptation.  
  
  
The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it.   
    Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray  
  
I generally avoid temptation... unless I can't resist it.   
    Mae West, My Little Chickadee, 1940  
  
Temptation rarely comes in working hours.   
It is in their leisure time that men are made or marred.   
    W. N. Taylor  
  
Temptation is a woman's weapon   
and man's excuse.  
    H. L. Mencken _**  
  
  
  
The week passed remarkably smoothly, and quickly, once they’d fallen into a routine.  He was up early, locking Kennedy outside before kissing Buffy goodbye.  School dragged most days, but Will figured since he was living for the moments outside, it made perfect sense in a surreal way.  
  
Time crawled to a stop while they were apart, only to race when they were together.  
  
There were some not so pleasant moments, the nights when she woke crying, or when she got moody and uncommunicative, almost sulking.  Will believed much of that was not intentionally directed at him, or caused by him.  
  
Buffy had finally broken down, after calling Willow, spending most of Sunday either crying or sleeping.  Uncertain at the time of the reasons, he’d waited until Buffy haltingly explained the cause of her upset.  It was, as always, her parents.  Her conversation with Willow had centered mainly around the increasingly belligerent phone calls from Joyce Summers.  
  
And yet, not once in those two weeks when no one knew where she was, did Joyce file a missing persons report, stubbornly clinging to the belief Buffy was just getting a bit of revenge for their fight that morning.  Which broke Buffy’s heart and just infuriated him.  He was glad too, Buffy had waited until after her birthday to call Willow, the very last thing she needed was dealing with all that.  Instead, they’d driven down to San Diego, which was closer than Los Angeles, for the day and actually spent the day doing coupley things.  Out in the open.  It was exactly what they both needed.  
  
He supposed it was a good thing then, that they’d gone shopping before the phone call, because he didn’t think she would’ve been up for the challenge.  He still had no idea what she’d bought, aside from a couple of pairs of jeans and a bigger bra.  And he only knew about that because she was so proud of the size she’d bragged about it.  And then modeled it for him.  
  
That had been Monday night.  
  
Tuesday she’d cooked.  
  
Wednesday had been ice cream.  
  
Tonight she was hiding in the bedroom, packing.  Their flight was leaving tomorrow, Friday, at five-forty in the afternoon, arriving in Vegas roughly an hour and a half later . . . and she was packing.  
  
Will was attempting to mark his eleventh graders’ midterms, anxious to go see what she was doing, but every time he got close to their bedroom door she yelled at him to go away.  
  
If it wasn’t so adorable, he’d be sorely aggravated.  As it was her bossiness had him hard as nails.  Will smirked, all at once thankful she was already pregnant and moving into the middle trimester.  He grinned wickedly, wondering how soon after this one was born before they could start on another.  _And who’d have thought you were a neanderthal, wantin’ your woman pregnant all the time?_  
  
“What’s with the leer?”  Her voice startled him, though he recovered quickly.  
  
“Thinking of you. . .” His voice was low and seductive, sending waves of want straight to her pussy.  
  
“Oh?  What were ya thinking about?”  Buffy leaned against the door, one hand unconsciously fiddling with her lower lip.  
  
Will glanced at her, his eyes narrowing at her appearance.  Her hair was in pigtails, all she had on was one of his tee-shirts and a pair of his socks, and he hoped, not much else.    
  
“C’mere, you.”  He growled out, crooking his finger at her.    
  
“Na huh.”  She batted her eyes at him and her lips quivered in mock fear.  “You’re gonna make me do bad things.”    
  
“Mmm.  Perhaps, I might kitten, but you’ll never know unless you _come here_.”  Will ground out that last bit, his voice deep and commanding.  He pushed back away from his desk, methodically stacking the graded and un-graded papers in two neat piles on the file cabinet behind him.    “You know, you’ve been a bit distracted. . .   Not paying attention to your lessons.  Bit of a bad girl.”  
  
He couldn’t look at her as he’d said that, afraid that his raw need would overwhelm her, but he couldn’t resist this little bit of role playing – it was close enough to what he’d wanted to do numerous times in his classroom to not indulge.  After all, she had been his student.  And he had wanted to fuck her silly on his desk more than once.  Now he could . . .   
  
It took her a minute, but when she spoke, he knew he wasn’t alone in his fantasy about the classroom and the desk.  “Gee, Mr. S., I’ve tried _really_ hard to be good, and to pay attention, but I have been kind of distracted lately.”  
  
Her voice was higher than normal, breathier and he knew she was doing it just to get him riled up.  _Oh, baby, two can play this game . . ._ “Really?  And what has you so distracted?  You know your grades are slipping dangerously.”  
  
“I. . . I can’t tell you.  You wouldn’t understand.”  She stole a glance at him from under her lashes and she internally grinned.  He was standing stock still, a pile of papers in his hand and he was trying hard to look at her sternly, but she could just make out the twinkle in his eyes.  “Just how bad are my grades?”  
  
“Unless you do some serious studying or _something_ to bring them up, you just might fail this quarter.”  He slowly put the pile down, his eyes never leaving her.  “Miss Summers, that skirt is entirely too short for school.”  
  
Trying to adopt an innocent look was really hard, especially considering her thoughts weren’t at all innocent, Buffy started to respond, then changed her mind.  “What?  It’s not _that_ short.  Not like you can see my panties or anything.”  
  
Her reward was the visible reaction of her soon-to-be husband.  A muscle ticked at his temple and his hands fisted at his side.  Emboldened by his response, she pressed her advantage.  “So, Mr. S., is there _anything_ I can do to make up my grades?  I’d be willing to do _anything_ to keep from failing.”  
  
“I don’t know, Miss Summers, you haven’t exactly been deserving of a second chance lately.  You never pay attention in my class, you’re always daydreaming and really, why should I give you a chance to make up your grades?”  He sat down in his chair, looking at her, waiting to see what she would do next.  
  
She started fiddling with the hem of his tee-shirt, deliberately letting it ride up her thighs and Buffy stood on one leg, her foot resting behind her so that the hem of the shirt rode up even higher.  Will was trying not to salivate, but she was driving him insane.  In an effort to gain some manner of control, he looked down at his desk, almost dismissing her.  
  
Knowing she was getting to him, Buffy smiled and took a step closer.  “Would it help if I . . . there’s this guy and I . . .  Never mind.  You just wouldn’t understand.”    
  
“Miss Summers, your personal life isn’t, _shouldn’t_ have any bearing on your grades.  I’m afraid you’ll have to do better than that to try and gain my sympathy.”  His voice was harsh, and Will realized this wasn’t so much a game anymore but the reality of their life.    
  
“Even if the guy is you?”  She’d moved so quietly that he never realized she was standing next to him until her words sounded almost in his ear.  The hem of his tee-shirt hit the top of the desk and Will was unable to focus on anything but that.  
  
It took him a very long time to compose himself.  “Are you insinuating that I’m the cause of your distraction?”  He was barely able to get the words out, almost whispering them in his need.  
  
“Ah huh.  It’s . . .yeah.  All your fault.”  The playful tone was still there and Will eased up a bit, leaning back in his chair to look at her standing by his desk.  Her fingers were back on the hem, rolling it up and down under her fingers, exposing more and more of her thighs.  
  
He blew out a breath, looking at her for signs of her trying to play him, using himself as an excuse to explain away her failing grades, or for any signs she was uncomfortable with this not-game they were playing.  “Just what did you have in mind to try and make up your grades?”  
  
“Isn’t that kind of up to you?  You are the teacher, aren’t you?”  She smiled at him, her eyes purposely wide and he wanted to die when she leaned across his desk, her chin resting on her palm and the tee-shirt riding up so high that he could just about get a glimpse of her bare ass.  He gaped at her for a long minute then nearly gave up the game when she smiled and said, “So, what are ya gonna make me do?”  
  
Buffy was having way to much fun with this, tempting him, making him lose his mind.  And the looks he was giving her and the things he was trying so hard to hide were turning her on.  This was all way too much fun.  And so much like what she had sometimes dreamed about, although it was maybe just a little bit more graphic, that she was fighting her own arousal.    
  
Will pushed further away from the desk, no longer willing to hide his erection from her.  “Well, Miss Summers, I really have to think about that.  I’m not really sure you might be capable of performing make-up work.”  
  
She nearly collapsed in giggles at his seriously bad attempt at innuendo, but she managed to keep her face straight.  Affecting an itch, she reached back and scratched at her butt, pulling the tee-shirt up even higher.  His eyes followed the motion of her hand and his adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he tried to swallow.   She knew he was dying to touch her, could feel his hands fisting and she moved her hand, leaving the tee-shirt where it was.    
  
“I’m capable.  Look at me, all capability girl.  I can do lots of things.  I’m really pretty flexible.”  She hid her smile behind her hands, afraid she was going to burst out laughing and completely ruin the moment, but she was really having fun.  _Will is so easy to tease._ “Please, Mr. S.  Please, _please_ let me do. . . _Something_ to make-up the work.”  
  
She watched him struggle to control himself and something within her snapped, she wanted him so badly she couldn’t fight it anymore.  He was angled toward her, his erection clearly outlined in his jeans and Buffy couldn’t, and didn’t want to, play any longer.  Reaching out, her hand brushed over his thigh, settling on his hard length.  “I’d do _anything_ for you Mr. S.”  
  
He groaned, watching as her small hand cupped him through the jeans.  “Oh, fuck.”    
  
His hips jerked and she popped open the top button, sliding her tiny finger down inside the denim.  “ _Anything_ to make you happy, Mr. S.”  
 _  
Oh, fuck, the little girl voice. . ._ The rest of his buttons followed the first in rapid succession and he was lost in the feel of her warm hand sliding up and down his cock.  His eyes focused on where she was touching him and he growled low in his throat when she flicked the head, her thumb gathering up the moisture.  She gasped and his eyes were drawn to her lips and her tongue was poking out, licking those chewable lips and Will couldn’t not touch her any longer.  His hand reached out, exposing all of her backside to his eyes.    
  
“Miss Summers.  You aren’t wearing any knickers.”  He could hardly speak, the sound of his voice harsh and raspy to his own ears.    
  
She let go of his cock, leaning up on her elbow, almost completely lying on his desk now.  The tee-shirt was up over her hip, just barely hiding the coarse curls covering her sex from his view.  Buffy brought her other hand up, her eyes steady on his, her little tongue poking out to lick the sticky pre-cum from all of her fingers.  Her smile widened at his reaction and she said, “Nope.  No panties.  Which is why you couldn’t see them under this really short skirt.”  
  
A shaky hand reached out, skimming along the hem, brushing against her.  “You are a very bad girl, Miss Summers.“  
  
“But I’m _your_ very bad girl.”  She gasped when his fingers tugged on her curls.  
  
“You’re all wet, baby.”  Buffy rolled onto her back, spreading her legs for him.  Will’s breath caught in his throat and he stumbled to his feet.  “You are so _fucking_ gorgeous.”  
  
Brushing her foot over his cock, Buffy hooked her toes into his waistband and tugged Will’s jeans down his hips.   “No, you’re the gorgeous one.”  
  
Will couldn’t focus on any one single thought.  Thousands of names were running through his head, a thousand thoughts he wanted to share with her.   She was wanton, innocent, bitch, angel . . .  Irresponsible and determined, broken yet unbowed. . . . vulnerable and formidable. . . and . . . all his.  
  
“Mine.  You’re mine, kitten. Not letting you go.  Now or ever.”  His fingers played in her curls, tugging on them gently, circling her heat.  “Open up for me, baby, lemme see you.”  
  
Buffy spread her legs, draping them over the sides of his desk, causing his tee shirt to cover her pussy from his sight.  
  
With shaky fingers, Will slid his hands over her thighs, then up underneath the soft red cotton.  He draped the shirt over her so that her breasts were exposed and the material gathered in the valley between, pointing the way to her pussy.  Will leaned over her, his fingers poised to thrust inside her soaking channel and his mouth hovering over one nipple.  
  
“You’re a feast. . . and ‘m gonna eat you all up, kitten. . . ‘m gonna drink from your breasts. . .” He suckled first one then the other.  “An’ then ‘m gonna. . .” His mouth was on her pussy, nibbling and sucking on her clit before Buffy could brace herself.  
  
“Oh god, Will.”  She cried out, her hands clenching the side of his desk.  
  
Will bit down gently on her clit, thrust two fingers inside and groaned.  “Love you. . .”  
  
He got to his feet, watching her face darken with need, her eyes wide open and focused on his.  “Cum for me, baby girl. . . show me what you’re feelin’ . . . lemme feel you.”  Will rotated his fingers, curling them up, brushing them over that spongy spot within her and Buffy whimpered out his name, convulsing around his hand.  
  
Sliding his fingers out of her, Will gripped her thighs and pulled her down to the edge of the desk.  “Lemme in, little girl . . . lemme take you.”  
  
Buffy lifted her shaking legs to wrap them around his waist.  “Now Will. . .”  
  
His growl of completion as he slid his cock into her warmth was equaled by a shuddering gasp from her. A tiny playful smile lit her face and Buffy reached up to grab his arms, pulling his face toward hers.  
  
“Love you. . . but . . next time?  Need faster.”  And then she softly screamed out his name as her orgasm ripped through her.  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
Will checked the hallways and the office before he snuck into the registrar’s office.  He’d waited until the last minute to sneak in and “borrow” Buffy’s birth certificate.  He’d thought about just getting another original, but this had seemed easier, since it might take over a week to get a second one from Los Angeles.  
  
There was no one in the office and Will headed directly for the student’s records.  He had a short period of time when the office was normally unoccupied.  Sliding open the drawer labeled Su – Sz, Will quicly located her records.  Flipping through the piles of papers, he didn’t find her birth certificate, growing frantic, Will went through them again, finding it the second time around.  
  
Quickly replacing her file and closing the drawer, Will slipped from the office as the secretary came back from lunch.  He checked his watch.  _Two forty-five._ In three hours they’d be on their way to Vegas.  Will headed for his car, the necessary documents in his jacket pocket.  
  
  
***************************************************************  
  
  
Everything was packed.  Their clothes for the weekend, her dress and his suit in hanging bags, with their dress shoes weighing down the bottoms.  It was just the waiting now.  Buffy tried buttoning up her jeans, frowning when the closure wouldn’t meet over the slight bulge of her barely protruding belly.  _Already?  No way._ She thought about laying down on the bed to button them, then thought again about the long flight and how much worse she was going to feel when she actually had to pee on the plane and she wouldn’t be able to get fully dressed again.  _Easier to just wear something else._   Looking through the meager pile of her belongings, she realized sooner or later, hopefully later, she was either going to have to break down and call her mother or she was going to talk Will into buying her a completely new wardrobe.  _Isn’t much here, but I’m so not calling my mother . . ._  
  
She’d only talked to Willow a couple of times since she’d started living here with Will, and in fact had only admitted to her best friend on Wednesday where she actually was.  No use in hiding it, not that she wanted to, but it would be better for Will if they didn’t advertise anything at all.  Especially their living arrangements.  Looking at the bigger pair of jeans in what was now her drawer, Buffy quickly stripped out of smaller pair.  _Yup.  Much easier doing this than asking Willow to sneak into my house and get some of my clothes.  Not fair to make her face the mom-monster when even I don’t wanna do it.  
_  
Glancing over the alarm clock by the side of the bed, Buffy sighed.  O _nly two forty-five.  Good news is Will’s on his way home. .  Bad news? . . . bad news. . ._ Buffy sighed again.  The doubts and fears that had been plaguing her for the last two days came back to haunt her again.  _Am I insane?  I’m going to marry my English teacher. . .okay, so technically not in school anymore, but still. . ._  
  
She flopped back on the bed, lying cross-wise, staring up at the ceiling.  _Am I doing the right thing?  Am I just using him to run away from my other problems?  The real ones . . . .   Mom.  Riley.  Baby._   Buffy curled up on her side, facing the headboard and their pillows.  She’d mentioned to Will, in passing, while they were shopping that she liked feather pillows instead of foam – and as a surprise he’d bought her three of them.  A wistful smile crossed her features, and she smoothed down the comforter that had bunched up when she’d fallen backwards.  There was no sense fooling herself.  She hadn’t really ever loved Riley, holding a part of herself back from him all the time, but then he hadn’t really tried to get to know her beyond the bouncy Buffy cheerleader facade that she showed everyone.  He’d been in love with the idea of her – he’d never read her poetry, never knew she climbed out of her window at night to go talk to her dead grandmother – or any other dead people.  Didn’t want to know about how scared she sometimes was when her mother was away for days, weeks at a time.  And how sometimes she dreaded her mother being around – especially when she was drinking. . . no, he’d never wanted to know about all that.  
  
But Will. . . he read her poetry – so some of it had to be turned in for a grade – but he hadn’t dismissed it or belittled her efforts – and he’d found out pretty quickly that she talked to her dead grandmother.  Funny thing was – he didn’t mind it at all – in fact, they’d gone together on Wednesday night after she’d talked to Willow.  He knew she was scared to be alone – again, because he’d pushed and found out.  He hadn’t once been willing to take her at face value, to allow her to pretend.  And she hadn’t wanted to, not with him.    
  
She wanted him to see her.  Really, truly see her.    
  
Funniest thing of all – he had.  Seen that is.  From the beginning he’d been able to really see her.  And Buffy knew he wasn’t afraid of her seeing the real him either.    
  
Another smile crossed her features, this one tinged with tears.  No one had ever really done that for her – really seen her and still loved her.  And suddenly, all the doubts she’d been having – well, weren’t completely gone – but they weren’t so real.    
  
Resting her head on his pillow, Buffy inhaled deeply, getting a noseful of his scent and the tears abruptly became breathless giggles.    
  
 _Yeah, so what am I doing tomorrow?  I’m marrying someone I love.  The only someone I love. . .  and it’s all gonna be okay.  Coz, I’m not gonna ever stop loving him._  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
  
She was sleeping on the bed when he got home, less than a half hour from the time he’d snuck into the registrar’s office.  Will stopped at the door to their bedroom, his eyes drinking in the sight of her.  Buffy was so tiny, barely hitting five feet tall, and just. . . all around petite.  Just a little bit of a thing she was, but his whole world was encompassed in her form.  She held the power to break him – destroy his life, his world, crumble everything to dust and yet none of that gave him pause.  He was hers and he was willing to do anything to keep her safe.  
  
He hated like hell to wake her, but they had to get moving, since they had to drive to San Diego to catch their flight.  The luggage was already in the DeSoto, all he had to do was wake her.  
  
On soft feet he approached the bed, a genuine smile playing about his lips.  Drusilla had given him hell about this, running off to Vegas to get married – but when he’d mentioned that it had been good enough for her and Liam, she’d had no room to keep on it.  _Someday, princess, I promise, we’ll do a whole big thing . . . church, reception, long honeymoon.  Although, spring break is in a couple of weeks. . .   Maybe a surprise trip for Valentine’s . . .  
_  
Will laid down on the bed, curling around her, his arms sliding under and over her.  “Buffy, c’mon love, time to wake up.  Gotta go, baby.”  
  
She mewled softly, rocking back against him, but didn’t wake.  
  
He nudged her again, his voice a little louder, mouth just by her ear.  “C’mon sweetheart, we need to go.”  
  
Slowly swimming toward wakefulness, Buffy whimpered, asking him in a whisper,  “Just a little bit longer, please?”  
  
His low chuckle and insistent hands prodded her into action though and Buffy reluctantly opened her eyes.  “I’m all comfy now.  Don’t wanna get up.”  
  
“We could stay here, if you really want, but the hotel’s all booked, tickets are all paid for . . .”   Buffy rolled over, giving him an evil glare.  
  
“Nope.  You woke me up.  Now I’m all cranky Buffy.”  She pouted at him, which only made him chuckle harder.  
  
“Have I told you how adorable that is?”  
  
“No.”  She smiled as he leaned closer, his lips trailing kisses over her face.  “But you could tell me again.”  
  
Will rolled over onto his back then sat up.  Lifting her up onto his lap, he said, “You’re the most beautiful, adorable sight ‘ve ever laid eyes on. . . an’ we need to go now, if we’re goin’.”  
  
The pout she presented him with was too much for him to resist, so he leaned in, his mouth on hers before she could formulate a thought.  The kiss deepened, tongues entwining and her fingers threaded into his curls at the same time his pushed beneath her shirt.  Buffy pulled away, gasping for air, resting her forehead against his lips.  “We need to go, right?”  
  
“If you wanna get married this weekend, yeah, we do.”  
  
Their eyes met and she smiled softly.  “We’ll be able to do this for five or six hundred years then.”  
  
“Definitely.  Forever.”  He brushed his thumb across her cheek.  When he reached her lips she kissed the rough pad, then whispered softly, “Then let’s go.”  
  
“After you, kitten.”


	26. No rule but love

_**Twenty-sixth.  No rule but love  
  
Marriage is a fierce battle   
before which the two partners   
ask heaven for its blessing,   
because loving each other is the   
most audacious of enterprises;   
the battle is not slow to start,   
and victory, that is to say freedom,   
goes to the cleverest.   
    Honoré De Balzac, The Physiology of Marriage  
  
My true-love hath my heart, and I have his,  
By just exchange, one for the other given:  
I hold his dear, and mine he cannot miss,  
There never was a better bargain driven.  
    Sir Philip Sidney, Song from Arcadia  
  
Yeah. Look, let me take you away from all this.   
Aaah, a marriage made in heaven.   
A frog and a pig.   
We can have bouncing baby figs.    
    Kermit to Miss Piggy, The Muppet Show, 1976  
  
When it comes to the marriage,   
one man is as good as the next.   
And even the least accommodating   
is less trouble than a mother.   
    Marquise de Merteuil, Dangerous Liaisons, 1988  
  
Chains do not hold a marriage together.   
It is threads, hundreds of tiny threads   
which sew people together through the years.   
    Simone Signoret  
  
A man's wife has more power over him than the state has.   
    Ralph Waldo Emerson, Journals  
  
Between a man and his wife nothing ought to rule but love.   
    William Penn**_  
  
  
  
  
Joyce looked up in surprise when her attorney put the papers down between them.  “You realize what you’ve signed, right?”  
  
“Given my daughter some hope for a future and . . . what?”    
  
“Joyce, I’ve been your attorney for years, since your divorce from Hank, now tell me what this is really about.”  
  
She sighed heavily, her eyes on the paperwork in front of her.  “I don’t want her to rely on any man.  They aren’t trustworthy or worth the aggravation.”  
  
Lilah Morgan watched the anger flicker across Joyce’s face, her own features impassioned.  “Have you heard from your daughter at all?”  
  
With a shake of her head, Joyce grabbed the settlement document laying on the table between them.  “She’s hiding at Rosenberg’s.  Her little friend says otherwise, but I know she’s lying.”  
  
“There’s one stipulation you should know about.”  Lilah paused while Joyce signed all the documents. “The Finns insisted on it, and they weren’t willing to budge.  I thought the general was a hardass, but his wife. . .”   Lilah’s voice trailed off, then she gathered herself.  “Apparently Maggie Finn insisted on this.  Neither you nor Buffy can access the funds without co-signing the checks.”  
  
“What?”  Joyce looked flustered, then a flash of anger flared in her eyes.  “What is that?  What does that mean?”  
  
“It means, Joyce, that neither you nor Buffy can touch the money without the other one knowing about it, until Buffy reaches twenty-one and then the money becomes hers and you’ll have no control over it at all.”  
  
Joyce sat there stunned, her mind trying to grasp this new information.   “That’s . . . that’s. . .”  
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
  
The flight was too short to be anything but uneventful.  By the time he realized he’d forgotten to call his uncle about the dogs, they were about half an hour into the flight to Las Vegas.  Will fumbled for his phone, his attention focused on getting at least a message through to Rupert, asking him to watch the dogs until Sunday.  
  
He hadn’t said anything to Rupert all week about Buffy’s return.  It was one thing for him to tell Drusilla or Buffy to tell Willow, neither one of them held the power Rupert Giles did.  Technically any admission of impropriety on Will’s part could get him into trouble, only the fact of the blood-ties between the two men seemed to be working in his favor.  
  
So far, Giles had held his tongue, kept Will’s secret.  That didn’t mean, though, Will was just going to start confiding his every thought.  If anything, Rupert’s knowledge of his feelings for Buffy made him more closed-mouthed.  _Can’t have both of us in hot water.  Least this way one of us can escape._  
  
Managing to leave a voice-mail on Rupert’s cell phone, Will breathed a little easier. His eyes settled on Buffy, who was taking advantage of their enforced stillness by sleeping.  The pounds she’d lost, ones she really shouldn’t have, were slowly coming back, little bit by little bit.  Between his encouragement and concern, she’d called her doctor, asking for advice and requesting a check-up appointment, since she’d missed her last one.  They were going to see the doctor on Thursday, and hopefully, they’d be able to convince her to eat more.  Her head fell against his shoulder, and Will shifted, easing her forward, then lifted the arm rest.  She started to wake up as he moved them around but his murmured “Go back to sleep”, was enough for her.  
  
Buffy was now laying across his lap, her head cradled in the crook of his elbow, her face against his chest.  Will leaned in to kiss the end of her nose just as the flight attendant walked by.  Glancing down at them, she smiled a bit.  “Long week?”  
  
Will grinned, sparing her a quick glance before focusing on Buffy again.  “Been a really rough month.”  
  
“Well the good news is it’s almost over.”  She paused for a second, then opened the hatch over their heads.  “Shouldn’t really do this, since we only have about an  hour more flying time, but she looks exhausted.”  
  
Unfolding the blanket, she spread it over them, a smile playing about her lips.  
  
“Thanks, pet.  ‘M sure she’ll appreciate it.”  Will settled back, closing his own eyes.  
  
With a soft, “You’re welcome,” the flight attendant left them alone.  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
Her first glimpse of the Las Vegas strip was a blur of lights and noise and people out walking around everywhere.  So very different from sleepy old Sunnydale.  Buffy wasn’t sure if it was because she’d just woken up or because she was very much out of her element, because she wasn’t exactly comfortable.  
  
It was sensory overload.  
  
The blinking flashing neon was giving her a headache and doing nothing for the nausea currently making her feel sea-sick.  “Will?  Can you pull over?”  
  
“What’s wrong?”  Checking the road, Will eased over to the curb, his eyes, for once, not on his girlfriend.  
  
The second the car stopped, Buffy was out, her head between her knees, fighting against the urge to vomit.  Her head was swimming, bile rising up in her throat, threatening to make an appearance at any moment.  Strong hands wrapped around her and she collapsed into them.  
  
“I’ve got you, kitten, relax.”  
  
“I don’t feel so good.”  Her face nuzzled against his chest, their arms instinctively wrapping around each other.  They both remained silent, while she tried to get her belly to agree to moving again.  A deep sigh broke through her.    
  
Will kissed the top of her head, running his fingers through her hair.  “Think you can go now?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“Right then, back in you go.”  Will waited while she sat in the rental, closing the door behind her.  
  
“Thanks, Will.”  Her tiny hand reached out to him as he sat down behind the wheel.  He took hold of it, raising it to his mouth.  
  
Not letting go after he placed a tender kiss on the back, Will smiled and drove toward their hotel.  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
He could have booked a whole big thing in the Bellagio; an entire hugely expensive over-the-top wedding package, including huge cake and all the other stuff.  They’d talked about it, just a little bit, and Buffy had said she didn’t want any of that, she just wanted something small without anyone else being around.  Which is why he didn’t book the expensive package.  
  
Will had gotten them the smaller of the two chapels, had gotten the smallest of the wedding packages, then paid for an up-grade so that Buffy could have a spa treatment in the morning, with pictures and dinner for the two of them.  They weren’t having any guests, the only people on earth other than the two of them who knew where they were going to be and more importantly, what they were doing, were Willow and Drusilla.  
  
Buffy had been utterly adorable when she was on the phone with Willow Thursday night and despite her earlier promise and decision she wasn’t going to tell her best friend about their plans for the weekend, she’d been unable to hold back.  The mutual squeals of excitement had been hard to miss and even though he knew the potential existed for them to be caught, he couldn’t in all good conscience give her a hard time about confiding in Willow.  He was glad she’d started opening up to her, because Buffy needed to know he wasn’t the only one that loved her – she needed the support of her best friend if she was going to make it through the next couple of months with her sanity intact.  
  
When he’d told Dru, after she’d yelled at him for a bit, she’d merely asked “Which hotel?”   
  
His response had gotten her approval and he then told her about the other surprise he was planning for spring break, which was around Valentine’s day.  Her delight had been infectious, and Will was basking in the glow of her approval when she lowered the boom on him and asked about Buffy’s mother.  That had been enough to sour his whole mood and Will had almost hung up on her; though she’d managed to calm him down and get him to open up about that also.  
  
Buffy was standing behind him, her jacket around her as she stared around at the lobby of the hotel.  He could tell by her stiff posture she was a bit uncomfortable and he guessed too, she was still feeling a bit off from nausea.  The morning sickness struck at the oddest times and Will sometimes wondered if stress also played a part in her continued inability to eat.  Check-in was progressing smoothly though and he figured they’d be up in their suite shortly.    
  
“Will?  How much longer?”  Her voice sounded next to him and he looked down at her to find tears pooling in her sad looking eyes.  
  
“What’s wrong, kitten?”  The concierge helping them took one look at the couple, attention caught by the concern in the man’s voice and prepared to step in if they needed her assistance.  
  
She sniffled a bit, then leaned closer to him, pitching her voice low.  “My belly’s all wonky and I wanna lie down.”  
  
He turned away from the concierge, his attention fully on her.  “You gonna get sick again?”  
  
She shook her head, making a face.  “Don’t think so.”  
  
“Mr. Stevenson?  Is everything okay?”  The concierge interrupted, pulling his attention away for a moment.  “If necessary we can have someone escort your fiance upstairs and you can check in while she’s resting.”  
  
All it took for him to agree was a look back down at Buffy and he was agreeing with the concierge’s suggestion.  “Go on up, kitten, I’ll be up shortly.”  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
Amazingly enough, she was asleep when he got upstairs, the remains of their complimentary basket on the table in their living room.  Deciding against disturbing her, Will looked around for his luggage, realizing she’d hung up his suit and unpacked for both of them, and managed to fall asleep in the time it took for him to finalize all the arrangements for the morning.  Buffy had an appointment for ten at the spa, he had a meeting with the officiant at eleven and the ceremony was taking place at two.  
  
At loose ends, Will decided against going downstairs to gamble or shop and opted instead to settle himself in front of the television. _We can always order room service or hit one of the restaurants later if either one of us is hungry._  
  
With that thought in mind, Will stripped out of his jeans and, with all the lights out, slid into bed beside Buffy.  
  
  
****************************************************************  
  
  
The phone ringing their wake-up call was the first thing either of them heard the next morning.  Will had requested a nine o’clock wake-up call, and as he opened his blurry eyes, he realized they’d slept through the night.  _Must’ve been exhausted, don’t remember much beyond settling in to watch television._  
  
Buffy stirred beside him as he was hanging up the phone, a sleepy, “What time is it?” emerging from her.  
  
“Just nine.”  He laid back flat on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.  “Scheduled a surprise for you at ten.”  
  
Her barely opened eyes stared at him.  “What kind of surprise?”  
  
“Good kind, sweets.  Girly stuff, spa . . .  Make-up and fun stuff.”  She squealed a little bit, sounding very squeaky.  “For me?”  
  
“Yeah.  So you’ll be all primped for this afternoon.”  He rolled over onto his side, his eyes on her.  “Not that I don’t already think you’re perfect, sweetness, but you deserve the spoiling.”  
  
Surprising him a little, she wrapped her arms around him, kissing him soundly.  “And you wonder why I love you.  You’re the best, Will.”  
  
He moved to slide her into his arms, his lips seeking hers.  Again, she surprised him by holding him off, her hands pushing him away.  “No way, buddy.  Next time you kiss me. . .”  
  
Took him a minute to realize what she was talking about and once he did, a gleam entered his eyes and a leer played about his lips.   “Right then. . .”  
  
“All right, sweetheart, we’ll play by your rules.”  He brushed a quick kiss on her forehead and rolled from the bed.  “Time to get movin’, princess.”  
  
Buffy got up, listening as Will called the concierge to find out if someone could come up to get her dress and everything else she would need for the afternoon.  Ducking into her bathroom, she got into the shower, determined to be out quickly.  
  
 _Today is important._  
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
  
The day passed in heartbeats.  
  
One minute she was just getting out of bed, the next she was being pampered, leg and under-arm waxing, a light massage, pedi- and manicure, and the next . . .   
  
Buffy stared at herself in the full length mirror, her eyes sweeping up and down.  _Wow. . . I look pretty good. . ._  
  
The dress was simple, thin spaghetti straps held up the soft vee-neck, flowing down to a straight white dress, a three-quarter length tissue hem over a floor length skirt.  The neckline and the hemline had delicate beadwork forming trellis leaves and the matching wrap was of the same chiffon material.  Her pretty pink toes barely peeked out from under the hem, while the wrap felt good against her shoulders.  She smiled wistfully at her reflection, hardly able to believe she was actually, here, now, about to marry Will Stevenson.  Her school-girl crush was long gone, replaced with a deep and consuming love between them.  He loved her, proving it every day, giving her everything she needed.   
  
Her hair was pulled back, baby wisps framing her face, making her eyes appear very luminous.  Inhaling deeply, Buffy stepped away from the mirror, searching for her bouquet.  _Will’s thought of everything. . .  
_  
There was a small disturbance at the door and the concierge who was assisting her opened the door.  A soft feminine voice sounded and Buffy heard the unmistakable sound of little girl giggles.  “Hush now.  Mustn’t make noise. . . we’re a surprise, my beauties.”  
  
Buffy turned to stare at the dark-haired woman, brushing past the startled girl.  “Hello, sunshine. . . surprised?”  
  
“Drusilla?”  
  
She swept further into the room, two little girls trailing behind her, both dressed in beautiful, frilly little party dresses.  “The one and only, darling.”  
  
“Oh.  Oh my god!”  Buffy couldn’t believe they’d managed to come. . . and she was so very glad they had.  “Oh!”  
  
A little voice perked up then, asking, “Are you gonna be our auntie now?”  And the second voice whispered loudly, “She’s pretty, Mommy.”  
  
Drusilla cupped their shoulders, presenting her daughters.  “This is Kathleen and Darla.”  
  
Buffy was still in a state of shock.  “Hello, girls.”  Addressing her next words to their mother, she said, “We never expected you.”  
  
“I know dearie, but I managed to convince my Angel we needed to be here.”  
  
“Angel?”  
  
Her infectious laughter filled the small chamber.  “He’s not really an angel, far from it.  I just call him that.  Liam’s outside, hiding from our Will.”  
  
“He doesn’t know you’re here?”  
  
“No, dearie.  The pixies whispered to me, told me we should come, and,” she giggled and shrugged, “here we are.”  
  
The concierge piped up, “It’s time, Miss Summers.”  
  
Clapping her hands, Drusilla got everyone’s attention.  “All right girls, come with Mummy now.”  
  
Buffy stopped her, sudden inspiration striking her.  “Girls?  Would you like to be in my wedding?”  
  
“Can we, Mummy?”  
  
“Please, Mummy?”  
  
“Are you certain, dearie?”  Drusilla had a gleam in her eyes though, and Buffy couldn’t resist the joy she saw there.  
  
“Positive.”  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
Will was standing next to the minister, a short, round fireplug of a woman, who smiled up at him, a twinkle in her eyes.  She looked like a real-life version of Mrs. Claus, only slightly miniaturized.  Charlotte Walters had set him at ease, and Will had found himself confessing everything to her during their short meeting.  She hadn’t judged him, hadn’t said he was wrong for loving Buffy, she’d only shaken her head with a smile, saying, “Love’s a gift.  We have to learn to accept it no matter when it appears.  God doesn’t work on our timelines. . .   He’s got his own agenda.”  
  
Coming back to the moment, Will got the surprise of his life when Drusilla and Liam slipped in the chapel doors, taking the first set of seats in front of them.  Drusilla’s whole face was brightened by her brilliant and knowing smile and despite the surprise, Will found himself grinning back.  That smile just widened even more when first Darla and then Kathleen walked down the short aisle toward him.  The smiles broke into outright laughter when Darla exclaimed, “Unca Will, you look pretty!”  
  
When Kathleen piped up, “Shush, silly, boys can’t be pretty,” Will nearly lost it.  
  
Buffy, who was hiding just behind the doorway, heard the entire exchange and fought her own giggles.  Listening to everyone’s happy laughter, she quickly addressed a plea toward the sanctuary – _let this be how it’s gonna be for the rest of our lives, please?_  
  
With that thought, Buffy stepped out from behind the doorway.  
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
  
He’d never expected Drusilla to act on her knowledge – or move so fast to get her, Liam, and the girls here.  Still shaking his head, Will barely had time to register their presence when their two little sprites were coming down the aisle toward him.    
  
Their little faces were lit with excitement and Darla’s artless exclamation, coupled with Kathy’s admonishment had him, and everyone else, laughing.  
  
Until Buffy stepped into his line of sight.  
  
The laughter drained from his face, exchanged with a look of absolute awe.  
  
 _She’s beautiful . . . . an’ all yours, mate._  
  
Her smile never faltered.  
  
His never wavered.  
  
Suddenly she was at his side, her small hand sliding into his, her touch warming him from inside.  
  
The minister’s words washed over him, her clipped tones softening as she watched the couple in front of her.  Will heard every word, none of them truly registering until, “Do you take this woman, Buffy, as your lawfully wedded wife?”  
  
Will stared down into her eyes, a smile on his lips.  “I do.  For always.”  
  
Buffy smiled back at him, a tiny smile playing about her lips.  The same question was posed to her and her answer, “I do.  For five or six hundred years,” made him smile widely.  
  
  
***************************************************************  
  
  
His laughter faded the moment his eyes locked with hers, but Buffy didn’t care, because the awe and love was clearly written on his face.   
  
Those butterflies started beating their wings, fluttering wildly in her belly.  _Hello there. . ._  
  
Buffy felt the blush cross her cheeks, accompanied by the increased pounding of her heart.  
  
The walk toward him took forever, and for long heartbeats she thought she was never going to reach his side.  
  
He had a wide grin on his face, one she couldn’t hid her response to.  
  
His hand reached for hers as she stood next to him and when their fingers meshed, Buffy breathed a sigh of relief.  
  
The words of the ceremony binding them together filled her head and the enormity of what they were doing scared her, though only for a moment, because in the next, Will was intoning, “I do, for always.”  
  
She couldn’t stop the smile from blooming on her face, nor the crazy thoughts in her head.   . .  “Do you, Buffy, take Will to be your lawfully wedded husband?”  
  
“I do.  For five or six hundred years.”  She couldn’t help the words of their private joke from surfacing.  
  
The minute the words were passed her lips, his grin widened and he softly growled, “Mine.”  
  
“By the powers vested in me, by God and the State of Nevada, I now pronounce you husband and wife.  You may now. . .”  
  
The minister’s voice stopped before the sentence was finished because Will had jumped the gun, his arms around Buffy and his mouth on hers.  
  
They broke apart when the girls started making kissing noises and giggling.  
  
Will rested his forehead against hers.  Buffy held onto him, her fingers lightly brushing his nape.   
  
Her soft breath whispered “I love you, Will.”  
  
His lips brushed over hers again.  “Love you too, kitten.  So damn much.”  
  
They stayed locked in an embrace until Darla’s voice piped up again, “Mummy?  Are they marrieded yet?”  
  
When Drusilla laughingly answered, “Yes.”  Darla shrieked in happiness, exclaiming, “Unca Will!  Auntie Buffy!  You’re marrieded!”  
  
Even the minister had to laugh.  
  
“I know, sweetness.  Are you happy?”  
  
“So ‘cited!  I wanna be married!”  Darla was practically bouncing.   
  
“Not for a long time, princess, not for a very long time.”  Liam’s wry tone cut through the mirth and Buffy stared at the taciturn man as he approached them.  “Congratulations, Will.  Never thought you’d do this.”  
  
The two men shook hands, while the girls circled around Buffy.    
  
“Can we call you Auntie?”  
  
“You’re pretty like a princess.  Are you a princess?”    
  
“Do you love Unca Will?”    
  
“Are you gonna gets a baby like Mummy?”  
  
Helpless against the barrage of questions, Buffy just let them ramble, but when Kathy’s innocent query rang through the chapel, Buffy froze.  
  
Will’s attention was caught by the question also, though he chose to ignore the first part.  “Like Mummy, pet?”  
  
His raised eyebrow spoke volumes about Dru keeping secrets, Will smiled down at the girls, “Well, poppets, the truth is Buffy is going to have a baby.”  
  
“Yeah!  Now we both can have one to play with!”  
  
Grabbing Buffy’s hand, Will kissed the back of it.  Darla pulled on his pants leg.  “Unca Will?  I don’t has to be your bestest girl anymores.  Auntie Buffy’s new baby can be, okay?”  
  
“Oh, poppet. . .”   Will didn’t know what to say to that.    
  
Buffy bent down to talk to the concerned four year old.  “Sweetie, I think your Uncle Will has enough room in his heart for a couple of best girls. You can be his best four year old.”  
  
Darla sniffled a little, then nodded, “I love you, Auntie Buffy.  You’re nice.”  
  
“Love you too, sweetie.”  
  
Will reached for her hand, the other one sweeping Darla up into the crook of his arm.  “C’mon, Mrs. Stevenson, we need to clear out of here.”  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
They went upstairs to change, and on a whim, Will picked up Buffy as they were exiting the elevator, carrying her slight form down the hallway to their suite, the giggling misses trailing behind them.  He’d dubbed the two girls the giggling misses on their way out of the chapel, since every time he kissed Buffy they thought it was funny, pointing and laughing at the newly married couple.  
  
Will and Buffy were in the bedroom, the girls in the living room, curiously searching around when Buffy motioned Will to the door, her head tilted so she could listen at the opening.  
  
One of them sighed, then whispered not so softly to the other.  “I wanted to grown up and marry Unca Will.”  
  
“Can’t do that silly.  He’s old.  Older than Mummy even.”  
  
“He’s not older than Daddy.”  
  
“No one’s older than Daddy.”  
  
“Do you fink Mummy’s new baby will love us?”  
  
“Ahuh.  That’s a stupid question.  He’s gonna be our brother.  He has to love us.”  
  
“Not stupid.”  
  
“Yes, you are.  You wanted to marry Unca Will.”  
  
“Amn’t stupid.”  There was absolute quiet, then, “Take it back or I’ll tell Mummy on you.”  
  
More quiet.  Buffy shared a look with Will, her hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles.  
  
“Sorry, Kaffy.  Not stupid.”  Darla paused, then asked her sister, “Is Unca Will’s new baby gonna love us?”  
  
“Prolly.  You’re opposed to love people that loves you.”  
  
“So we love Unca Will’s new baby?”  
  
“I love it.  You should too.  It’s better than Mummy’s new baby.  It’s a girl.”  
  
“Girls are better than boys.”  
  
“Unless they’re Daddy.  Or Unca Will.”  
  
“Boys are yucky.”  
  
“Kaffy?  Don’t be mean to Auntie Buffy caused she married Unca Will, kay?”  
  
There was a very long pause, while Kathleen obviously thought this one over.  Finally, her voice sounding very small, she answered.  “Okay.”  
  
Buffy was hard pressed to stifle her laughter and Will was shaking his head.  “Those two are gonna be a handful when they’re older.”  
  
“They’re very smart little girls.”  
  
“Daddy sayed Unca Will should be caryful, cos of the old man.  Who’s old man?”  
  
“Dunno.  Are we gonna get ice cream?”  
  
The two adults shared a look, knowing which old man Kathy was talking about.  “Dru must’ve told him.”  
  
“Is he. . . would he say something?”  Buffy grabbed Will’s forearm, sudden fear clutching at her.  
  
Will shrugged.  “If he was, he wouldn’t have come.  Peaches isn’t smart enough to be that subtle.”  
  
A sigh of relief broke from her and Will gathered her into his arms.  “We’re okay now, sweets.  We’re together and no one can break us apart.”


	27. Someone you can’t live without.

_**Twenty-seventh.  Someone you can’t live without.  
  
I'll take you to the highest mountain   
To the depths of the deepest sea   
We won't need a map, believe me   
Now let my body do the moving   
And let my hands do the soothing   
Let me show you the world in my eyes   
That's all there is   
Nothing more than you can feel now   
That's all there is   
    Depeche Mode, World In My Eyes, from the album Violator  
  
Passion crashes into obstacles;   
Reason peers around them.   
    Mason Cooley, City Aphorisms, Sixth Selection  
  
Wheresoever you go, go with all your heart.  
    Confucius  
  
Love is passion, obsession, someone you can't live without.   
If you don't start with that, what are you going to end up with?   
Fall head over heels.   
I say find someone you can love like crazy and who'll love you the same way back.   
And how do you find him?   
Forget your head and listen to your heart.   
I'm not hearing any heart.   
Run the risk, if you get hurt, you'll come back.   
Because, the truth is there is no sense living your life without this.   
To make the journey and not fall deeply in love - well, you haven't lived a life at all.   
You have to try.   
Because if you haven't tried, you haven't lived.    
    Meet Joe Black, 1998**_  
  
  
The certainty in Will’s voice carried her through the remainder of the night.  Because of the surprise arrival of Liam, Dru and the girls, Will had changed the reservations for their romantic dinner to Sunday night, though they kept the plans to see the Cirque du Soleil.  Instead they ate dinner in one of the more family-friendly restaurants, entertained by the antics of the giggle misses.  
  
After dinner and then stopping to watch the fountains, they’d all trooped over to the Cirque and the girls, from Buffy and Drusilla to the little ones, had been entranced by the beauty and artistry of the Canadian troupe.  
  
When the house lights went up, Darla whirled in her seat and said very seriously, “Daddy.  I’m gonna do that when I gets bigger.”  
  
Liam just smiled, saying, “Takes a lot of practice, sweetpea.”  
  
“I’m gonna do it.”  Darla crossed her little arms and got a very serious look on her face.  Catching sight of her father’s grin, she said, “Don’t laugh at me.  I mean it.”  
  
His hands raised up and he tried soothing her, “I’m not laughing, princess.  If you say you wanna do it, I believe you.”  
  
A huge yawn split her features and Liam took the opportunity to gather up his family and leave the newlyweds alone.  “Right now, though, princess, it’s time for all little girls to be in bed.”  
  
“Night Unca Will and Auntie Buffy.”  The girls chorused together, then sped down the corridor toward the elevators.  With quick kisses and whispered congratulations, the O’Malley’s were gone.  
  
“Alone at last. . . what do you wanna do, wife?”  Will asked as he watched them go, a fond smile on his face.  
  
Buffy leaned into his embrace, “Gee, husband, I dunno. . . what do you wanna do?”  
  
Thinking about it for a moment, Will leered at her, his tongue behind his teeth.  “Dunno, kitten. . . we could go out dancin’. . . or we could . . .  dance.”  
  
There was no doubt in either of their minds what he meant and Buffy blushed beautifully, thinking about it.  “Maybe . . .we could do both?”  
  
“Right then.”  Gripping her hand, Will headed toward the nightclub.  _Gotta love these all inclusive places . . ._  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
“Hey, Willow.”    
  
Her name spoken by that voice startled her and Willow blinked a couple of times, uncertain of her vision.  His dopey half-grin covered his features and she got the feeling he was trying too hard to be nice.  
  
“Riley.”  
  
There was no warmth in her tone and he winced, hearing it.  Willow had absolutely no sympathy for him.  
  
“Hey.”  He tried again, obviously looking for something.  
  
 _Well, not gonna give him any help. . .   Just gonna wait until he spills those beans.  Yup, gonna wait._   Willow stared up at Riley, waiting patiently for him to bring up why he’d interrupted her in the bookstore.  
  
“So.  How you’ve been?”  Riley couldn’t believe his own stupidity and he could tell, by the look on Willow’s face, she couldn’t believe he’d asked such a stupid question.  
  
Everyone knew – well the rumors all over the school were saying, Buffy had run away after being suspended by Snyder.  Riley figured Willow knew more than she was telling, because she was the only one not talking about it.  She and Xander hadn’t said a word about Buffy in weeks and Riley was beginning to get worried.  He was also beginning to think he’d made a horrible mistake – _well, sort of. . .  
_  
Maybe if he hadn’t reacted the way he did – maybe Buffy would have been willing to take care of things differently.    
  
Willow was staring at him again, the incredulous look still on her face.  With a shake of her head, Willow answered him.  “I’ve been good.”  
  
She didn’t offer any more and once again he was floundering, trying to come up with some way to ask the questions that had popped into his head when he spied Willow on her way into the bookstore.  
  
“Um. . . so Willow, have you seen Buffy at all?”  
  
She was so not going to make this any easier on him.  “Nope.”  
  
Willow turned to put the book back, scanning the shelf for others.  Without turning to look at him she said, “I don’t have anything to say to you, Riley.  We aren’t friends.”  She paused, relenting a little.  “I gotta go.”  
  
“Wait.”  He touched her arm, holding her in place.  “Have you talked to her?  Is she okay?”  
  
“Riley, just go away.  Forget about Buffy. . . that’s what you wanted anyway.  You dumped her, remember?”  She pulled away from his grasp, stepping back.  
  
“Please. . . just. . . tell me if she’s okay.  Can you give me that much?”  
  
“Wills?  You okay?”  Xander’s voice broke into their conversation, and Willow glanced over her shoulder to see him and Cordy watching them, concerned looks on both their faces.  
  
“Yeah.  I’m okay.”  She smiled at them, grateful for their presence.  Turning her back on Riley Finn, Willow said, “Let’s blow this taco stand.”  
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
  
The music was loud and pulsing, the beat infectious and despite the tables scattered about the sides of the club, the place was hopping, packed nearly to the rafters.  It took them more than a little while to make their way to the dance floor through the clumps of people.  Will had a hold of Buffy’s hand and when the crowd thinned he pulled her close, his arm circling her shoulders.  He leaned into her, his mouth close to her ear.  “Do you want a drink?”  
  
She shook her head negatively, her body already responding to the music.  
  
Her hand fisted in his shirt, fingers tugging on his belt loop, pulling him forward as she backed away from him out onto the dance floor.  
  
A small wanton smile played about her lips and Will found himself responding in kind.  His grip on her shoulder loosened, his hand sliding down, brushing over the side of her breast, resting on her hip.  She slid closer, body brushing against his, then she was dancing back, teasing him.  
  
The beat changed and a low crooning voice filled the dance floor, echoing off the walls.  
  
 _“Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, leave in silence. . .”_  
  
Will grinned, pulling her close, his fingers splayed around her hips.  He sang along with the words, watching as her eyes got impossibly wider.   
  
_“Let me take you on a trip . . . around the world and back . . .  And you won’t have to move you just sit still. . .”_  
  
The deejay expertly wove the songs together, the music pulsing in time with Will’s heart and he could feel Buffy responding, her body moving in sync with his.  
  
 _“Let my body do the moving. . .  Let my hands do the soothing. . . let me show you the world in my eyes. . .”_  
  
Will pulled her closer, until there was nothing between them.  His hand cupped her ass, her heat scorching him.  
  
 _“Like we stand this emotion of violence. . . leave in silence. . .”_  
      
Buffy threw her head back, as his lips found the skin of her neck, her pelvis grinding against him.  Tiny fingers dug into his shoulder, others scrabbling for purchase on his ass.  
  
Sweat dripped at his temples, pooled beneath her breasts, fusing them together.  Will’s hand slid down her hips, inching up under her skirt, pushing it up higher.  His thumb brushed up against the garter holding up her stocking, then slid between it and her skin.  
 _  
“Let my body do the moving. . . let my hands do the soothing. . . let me show you the world in my eyes. . .”_  
  
His lips parted, letting his teeth nip at the pulse point throbbing in her neck.  
  
 _“That’s all there is. . .  Nothing more than you can touch now. . . that’s all there is. . .”_  
  
Buffy’s breasts brushed across his chest, nipples pebble hard, teasing him.  His fingers curved around her ass, holding her against his erection as they writhed to the beat.  
  
The beat changed slightly, though neither of them noticed, save for the words ringing in the air.  
 _  
“I’m hanging on your words. . . living on your breath. . . feeling with your skin. . .”_  
  
Her hand slid over his face, thumb resting against his lips.  Will bit down gently and her body shuddered.  
  
 _“All the heavens in the motion. . .  Let me show you the world in my eyes. . .”_  
  
He gazed into her eyes, barely inches away, want and need blazing brightly in dark sapphire eyes.   “Baby. . .”  
  
She bit her lower lip, her eyes staring into his.  “Will. . .”  
  
He moved, both arms around her, riding low on her hips, holding her against his raging erection.  “Need you.”  
  
 _“In your room. . .  Your burning eyes . . .  Cause flames to arise . . .”_  
  
Buffy moved forward, her arms resting now on his shoulders, fingers unconsciously playing with his curls.  Her lips brushed against his, her tongue sliding across his lower lip, teeth nibbling softly.  
  
Will pulled away, grasping her hand in his.  He spun back, when she playfully resisted his tugging hand.  “What?”  
  
Her pout was very nearly his undoing.  She turned her back on him, their hands still clasped and wriggled her ass into his crotch.  Throwing a coy look over her shoulder, Buffy whispered, “I wanna dance.”  
  
 _“That’s all there is. . .  Nothing more than you can touch now. . . that’s all there is. . .”_  
  
The low growl against her nape made the gooseflesh rise.  His free hand once more slid beneath her skirt, teasing her with fleeting touches.    
  
“Will . . .”  
  
 _“I’m hanging on your words. . . living on your breath. . . feeling with your skin. . .”_  
  
“Shh. . . wife.”  He rumbled low in her ear.  “Can you feel me?”  
  
It took her a minute to gasp out a breathy yes and he nipped her ear, then scored her neck with his teeth.  “Want you . . . need you. . . love you.”  
  
 _“Your burning eyes Cause flames to arise . . .”_  
  
His finger slid beneath the silk of her panties, stroking her, sliding between her pussy lips.  She gasped louder, grinding harder against him.  “Please, Will . . . now.”  
  
“Ready baby?  Wanna feel you . . . wanna be inside you.”  
  
 _“That’s all there is. . .  Nothing more than you can touch now. . . that’s all there is. . .”_  
  
Buffy pulled away, dislodging his fingers, turning in his arms.  “Will, let’s go.”  
  
Her only answer was his hand reaching for her and the insistent feel of his hand at the small of her back as he propelled her from the club.  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
Buffy smiled over her shoulder at her new husband, her eyes roving over his handsome face, noting the lines of tension bracketing his mouth.  His eyes were twinkling though and she hid the blush his wandering hands were invoking.  The elevator was crowded, couples of varying ages waiting to get to their different destinations.  Buffy was pressed against Will, their right hands clasped together, his left arm snaked around her waist.  Will’s mouth was against her neck, low, nearly impossible to hear whispers causing shivers to chase themselves up and down her spine.  Their clasped hands kept sneaking beneath her skirt, his thumb hooking around her garter.  The couples on either side of them were smiling, casting sly, knowing glances in their direction.  
  
Will could feel the blush spread across his wife’s face and his grin got impossibly broader.  She hissed a little at him when his hand slipped from hers and slithered further beneath her skirt.  
  
She wriggled against him, squirming away from his touch.  “Will, stop it.”  
  
Buffy lifted her left hand to slap his and her eye caught the glint of the diamond and platinum on her finger.  She held it out and giggled.  “Look, honey, I’ve got wedding rings.”  
  
His deep chuckle filled the small glass cabin and Will raised his hand to grasp hers.  Her breathy gasp sounded in the air and everyone in the cabin laughed in response.  “Oh look!  You have one too.”  
  
Throwing his head back in a deep laugh, then dropping a kiss on her shoulder, Will said, “Yes, I do, baby.”  
  
The couple to their left smiled and the woman asked, “May, I see please?”  
  
Buffy happily showed off her rings and congratulations sounded in the air.  
  
Her smile was blinding, illuminating the small area, warming his heart.  _God damn, I love her smile._   “I love you so much, sweetheart.”  
  
“Love you, love you, Will, always.”  She turned in his arms, throwing hers around his neck, kissing him quickly on the lips.  
  
  
****************************************************************  
  
  
He carried her from the elevator to their suite, her legs wrapped around his waist, her head resting on his shoulder.  Every sense was attuned to her, every nerve-ending seeking more contact with her.  “Gotta have you, baby, love you so much.”  
  
Soft lips brushed over his neck, tiny teeth nibbling on his ear.  ‘Will. . .  I love you.”  
  
Fumbling for the card key in his pocket, Will almost lost her when the sides of his shirt fell open.  “You tease.”  
  
“Ahuh.”  Buffy gazed at him with half closed eyes, hiding her intentions from him.  Their door clicked open as her fingernails scraped gently over his nipple.  “Oh hell.”  
  
“Mmmm . . . you love it.”  She licked a path from his ear to his mouth, panting lightly when his hands slid up the back of her skirt, cupping her ass.  
  
“You’re killing me, baby.”  
  
“Love you.”  His lips brushed hers, once, twice, and on the last swipe his tongue sought entry into her mouth.  
  
The kiss was soft, gentle, belying the urgency they were both feeling.  Buffy pushed his shirt down, off his shoulders, almost handcuffing him against her.  
  
“Need you, Will, so much.”  Her voice was a bare whisper between them, her luminous eyes boring into his.    
  
Shifting her closer, Will slid both hands beneath her skirt, fingers snagging on the garters she was wearing.  His voice rolled through her, his words making her squirm.  “You did this just for me, didn’t you, sweets?”  
  
A teasing look crossed her features, making him growl in response.  No one turned him on the way she did with a mere look, no one.  He’d never been so affected by any woman until her – not even Drusilla had had this effect on him.    
  
His fingers dug into her flesh and he walked toward their bedroom, Buffy clinging to him tightly.  Her mouth was at his ear, the soft exhalations of her breath sending shivers straight to his groin. “There isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you.”  
  
“Oh god, Buffy. . . you can’t say that.”  
  
“It’s true.  Anything you wanted.”    She gently bit down on his ear lobe.  “Anything you need.  All you have to do is ask.”    
  
“I need . . . I need _you_.”  His eyes closed and Will could feel his control slipping, escaping him with every word she whispered into his ear.  “Need to be inside you, kitten.  Now.”  
  
He reached the edge of the bed, then dropped his hands as Buffy let go.  She bounced onto the mattress, a throaty giggle escaping her.  A small hand reached up to undo his belt and he could feel the warmth of her brushing over his erection.  Her other hand cupped his ass, pulling him down toward her.  His hands braced his body over hers and their lips met in a deep searing kiss.  
  
Buffy kicked off her shoes, sliding away from him, her hands pushing the dress pants down his slim hips.  “Did I tell you how good you looked today?”  
  
“No.”  His hands reached for her shirt, undoing the delicate buttons before sliding it off her torso.  Will dropped a kiss on her belly, then flicked open her bra.  “Gonna tell me?”  
  
“Nope.  You’re already way to full of yourself.”  Buffy wriggled away from him, demurely covering her breasts.  
  
Will stared down at her, a sly grin on his face.  “Gonna make you full of me.”  
  
She giggled softly, the giggle morphing into a breathless gasp when his hands slid beneath her skirt, untying the sides of her panties.  
  
“Will. . .  You are . . . oh.”  He lifted her half off the bed, stripping the black skirt from  her, leaving her only covered by stockings and the white lacy garter belt he’d been intrigued by while they were dancing.  
  
“You are a vision.”  His breathing hitched as he watched her, his eyes sweeping over her.  Buffy reached for him, her small hand softly grazing the side of his face, falling down to brush over his hard chest.  She was on her knees in the middle of the bed and Will could see the fullness of her breasts and the curve of her pregnant belly and a low growl erupted form his throat.  “God, kitten, you are perfect.”  
  
Moving onto the bed with her, Will cupped her hip, bringing her close to him.  His mouth ghosted over hers, their breaths mingling as their kisses deepened.   
  
He dropped down onto the bed, pulling Buffy onto his hips, sliding her over his erection.  “That’s it, baby, take me inside . . .yeah. . . like that.”  
  
Slowly, savoring the moment, Buffy dropped down, her pussy enveloping his hardness.  They both groaned at the contact, her hands digging into his forearms when his gripped her hips, his hands helping her move.    
  
She was curled over him, her breasts pointed at his face and Will leaned up, taking one into his mouth.  His tongue on her nipple sent tremors straight through her, centering on her pussy.   “Oh god, Will.”    
  
He pulled hard, nibbling first then licking a soothing arc around her distended nipple.  Violent trembles coursed through her, and Buffy gasped, her movements growing frantic.  “Can’t . . . oh god Will. . . oh god. . .  Oh my . . . gonna. . .”  
  
Her orgasm ripped through her, her pussy tightening impossibly around his throbbing cock and Buffy’s response drove him over the edge.  Will let go, her name a litany on his lips and she slumped down, her head nestled in the crook of his neck.    
  
Their breathing slowly returned to normal and Will rearranged the blankets over them, pulling her back almost on top of him.  A soft kiss landed somewhere near his heart and Will smiled.  “You okay, baby?”  
  
“Mmmmmmhhhhmm.”  She ran a languid hand down his torso, and he could feel the slow smile burgeoning on her lips.  “Gimme a couple minutes, kay?”  
  
“Sure, kitten, anything you want.”    
  
The lace of her garter was scratching against his hip, rubbing up against his raw cock. Reaching around her, Will unhooked the stockings from the garter, preparing to take it off.  “Will?”  
  
“Just making sure you’re comfy, that’s all, just relax.”  He moved out from underneath her, leaving her face down on the pillow.  She watched him from behind half-opened eyes, curiosity clear on her expression.  The stockings slid down her legs as he moved them, pooling around her knees.  “Lift up, baby.”  
  
She did, and the temptation was more than he could ignore.  Will placed tender kisses up and down the backs of both legs, gently rolling the stockings off her.  Buffy laughed softly as his lips tickled over her, her lower body writhing with renewed arousal.    
  
Will moved higher, leaving a trail of kisses up the middle of her back, and he grinned when she whined out his name.  His cock nudged against her from behind, his body covering hers, held up only by the strength of his arms.  Using his nose, Will pushed aside her hair so he could nuzzle against her.  Buffy wriggled beneath him, and he groaned into the nape of her neck.    
  
“Will.”  She drew out the sounds of his name in a husky whisper.  “You promised.”  
  
Groaning deeply, Will rolled over onto his back, cupping his left hand around her breast, bringing her with him.  Buffy was on her side, and Will eased up behind her, curling his body around hers.  “I did.  I just need to be near you.”  
  
His fingers toyed with her nipple and Buffy covered his hand with her own, edging back into him.  “I feel the same way.”  
  
Another kiss brushed over her shoulder and Buffy sighed, letting her eyes drift closed.  She was asleep within moments, worn out by the day.  It took Will longer to settle down, but having her in his arms, his rings on her finger did much to ease the worry and anxiety he’d been fighting.  His last thought before he too, slipped into sleep, was of her and how much he loved her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The songs are a mix of three different ones from Depeche Mode –Leave in Silence, World in My Eyes and In Your Room (and yes, the mix does work – it all depends on which version of the songs you have).


	28. Mad dogs and Englishmen

_**Twenty-eighth.  Mad dogs and Englishmen  
  
This dog and man at first were friends;  
But when a pique began,  
The dog, to gain some private ends,  
Went mad and bit the man.   
    Oliver Goldsmith, The Vicar of Wakefield   
  
It’s dogs that bite that do not show their teeth.   
    Chinese proverb**_  
  
  
  
  
Will woke slowly, the feel of warm teasing fingers circling over his erection and nibbling kisses trailing over his chest.  His eyes opened and he barely noticed the darkness surrounding them, his vision caught by the sight of his new wife’s hair barely hiding eyes lit with an impish fire.  
  
“Oh god, Buffy.”  Her mouth closed around one of his nipples as her hand tightened fractionally around his cock.  
  
“You woke me up.”  
  
“I woke _you_ up?”  Will lifted his head from the pillow, bemused confusion swimming in his eyes.  “Seems like you’ve got that backwards, pet.  You woke _me_ up.”  
  
“Nah huh.  You woke me.”  
  
“How on earth did I do that?”  
  
Her teeth closed around his nipple then and a moment later she let go, blowing her warm breath over it.  “Well, part of you woke me up.”  
  
“Ah huh.  Which part of me was that?”  Will reached for her, brushing the hair back, then running his hand down her flank.  
  
Buffy blushed, squeezing her hand rhythmically around his cock, twirling up and down.  “You were poking me.”  
  
“Was I now?”  Will flipped them over trapping her beneath him.  “Guess I’ll just have to make it up to you.”  
  
It was his turn to rain kisses over her face, down her neck and over her collarbone, licking and nibbling as he went.  “You’re gonna have to try really hard, Will, coz I was sound asleep.”  
  
Will eased up, wedging his legs between hers, his cock nudging at the folds of her pussy.  Looking down at her, he was struck almost speechless at her expression and he leaned down to kiss her.  
  
“I love you.”  His whispered admission made her smile and his genuine grin changed into a leer, as he pushed further into her welcoming depths.  “I really, really do, even though  I’m pretty damn sure _you_ woke _me_ up.”  
  
It took her a moment, but when she realized what he’d said, her pout made him laugh, forcing him even deeper.  
  
Buffy’s hips arched up and the mood went from playful to serious in an instant.  “Oh god. . . oh _Will_!”  
  
Lifting her hips up further, Will drove into her, fingers digging into her soft flesh. His panting breaths broke over her and Buffy could feel every flex of him within her, every flick and twist of his hips against hers.  Buffy braced her hands up over her head, pushing into him.  His thrusts gained speed, pounding into her.  
  
“Fuck. . . gonna. . . ready?”  
  
She mewled out something in response, gasping and panting for air.  “Please, Will. . . _please_.”  
  
“Come with me, baby . . . c’mon.”  She stiffened beneath him, and he could feel her tighten around him and Will froze, his back arching.  The rush hit them simultaneously and Will growled out her name.  
  
Sweat pooled between them and mindful of her gravid state, Will rolled to the side, pulling her into his arms.  
  
Buffy murmured softly, brushing a kiss on his jaw, then curled into his side.  
  
Before long they were both asleep.  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
Dinner was romantic and wonderful and everything Buffy had imagined after a long day of sightseeing and shopping.  She hadn’t really been paying attention when they’d ordered, her mind on her husband and their return home.  
  
“I wish we didn’t have to go back.”  
  
Will chewed slowly, his eyes watching her carefully.  “Any particular reason?”  
  
Her sigh was deep and she paused before answering him.  “I don’t wanna go back and have to face everything there just yet.”  Buffy avoided his eyes for a second, staring down at her plate.  “It’s been easier, you know, just us, and going back means dealing with reality.”  
  
Composing his thoughts, Will continued eating, wondering if she was going to elaborate more.  Before he had a reply, she was speaking again.  
  
“I wanna finish school, but I don’t want to go back there.  I’m worried about my Mom coz she hasn’t even tried to find me, and I’m scared too, Will, that someone’s going to try and break us apart.”  She finally looked up at him, crystal tears pooling in her eyes.  “I can’t let that happen.  I can’t.  I don’t wanna be without you.”  
  
He was out of his chair before her tears fell, crouching down beside her.  “Oh, baby.  Don’t cry, please.  I can’t stand it when you cry.”  
  
Will’s arms encircled her and he pulled her close.  Buffy sniffled a bit, letting her head drop onto his shoulder.  “Baby, you don’t have to worry about school.  You can get your GED and enroll at UC Sunnydale if you want. That’s easy.”  
  
He brushed his hand down her back, laying kisses on the top of her head.  Thinking quickly, Will pulled back a little, lifting her head from his shoulder.  
  
Buffy stared into his eyes while he wiped away her tears.  “Sooner or later, kitten, we’re gonna have to face your mother.  But I promise, you, it won’t be alone, we’ll do it together.  I’ll be with you for everything.”  Taking a deep breath, Will said, “An’ if it looks like we’re in trouble, we’ll head to England.”  
  
“England?”  Confusion filled her eyes and Will knew he needed to explain.  
  
“Won’t have any problems there, or not the same ones, anyway.  Seventeen is legal there, sweets, and we’d already be married, so I doubt anyone would care.”  
  
She stared at him for a few moments, processing his reasoning.  “You’ve thought about this a lot, haven’t you?”  
  
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her  how close he’d been to switching plans completely and just leaving permanently, but Will held his tongue.  Instead he told her about the other thing he’d done.  “Thought about this a lot.  In fact, I’ve already sent out my resume to a couple of different schools.”  
  
“You did?”  Buffy rested her hand on his shoulder, fiddling with the collar of his shirt.  “I thought you liked it there?”  
  
“It was the first place I could get hired and that only happened because Giles put in a good word.  Had a bit of a past to get over and some schools weren’t as eager to deal with what looked like could have been anger management issues.”  He shrugged, not hiding any of his past from her.  “I spent a year of university doing nothing but drinking and fighting.“  
  
“When your mother died.”  It wasn’t a question and they both knew it.  
  
“Yeah, then.”  He wasn’t ashamed of it, that had been a rough time for him, his only lifeline Drusilla and sometimes contact with his uncle Rupert; it had come back to haunt him when he’d settled down and gotten his act together.  
  
“What about the house?”    
  
“It’s just a house, sweetheart.  We can always buy another.”  He paused, his eyes scanning her features.  “Made you a promise, kitten, an’ I’m not breaking it.  You’re my wife and I’m not letting you go.”  
  
“Hey, possesso-guy, that’s kinda caveman, isn’t it?”  She had a teasing glint in her eye, lightening the mood a bit.  
  
His low chuckle eased the aching pain in her chest, which occurred whenever she thought about them being separated.  Will made a fist and thumped his chest twice, growling low under his breath, and his posturing brought a smile to her face, which was his aim.  The soft giggles let him know his ploy had worked.  
  
With a quick kiss on her forehead, Will returned to his seat.  
  
One crisis averted. . .  _But how many more are we gonna have to deal with before this is over?_  
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
  
“Bloody hell.  What is this mess?”    
  
Giles had dropped Jenny off at her house before heading over to Will’s to take care of the dogs.  Upon his arrival, only the basset hound had met him at the door, waiting patiently to be let outside.  Making his way through to the kitchen, Giles understood why the other one was hiding.  Garbage was strewn all over the floor, half eaten foodstuffs, papers, napkins and other debris all over the place.  Stepping inside the room lightly, Giles headed for the backdoor first, in order to let out Clem.  He didn’t bother looking for Kennedy, knowing the destruction was all the work of the high-strung terrier.    
  
Muttering curses under his breath, Giles set about cleaning the mess up.  
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
Both flight and drive home were problem free, even Buffy’s stomach behaving.  Long before she was ready to be back home, Will was pulling into the driveway, nudging her into full wakefulness.  “C’mon, sweets, we’re home.”  
  
“Can we leave it til morning to unpack?”  She didn’t bother to hide the yawn and dropped her head down onto Will’s shoulder as she fought against getting out of the car.  
  
“Sure.  I’ll get the bags in the morning.”  He opened his car door, pausing when he caught sight of Giles’ car parked at the curb.  “Buffy?  M’uncle is here.”  
  
Her eyes popped open and she gaped at him.  “Giles?  He’s here?  Why is he here?”  
  
“My guess is he’s here taking care of the dogs.”  Will got out and closed the door behind him.  Moving around to her side of the car, he held the door opened for her.  “I did ask him to do that.”  
  
“What are we gonna tell him?”  There was real fear in her eyes and she gripped his hand tightly.  
  
He stared down at her for a few seconds, lost in thought.  He could brazen it out, lie to his uncle, telling him he’d been out looking for her all weekend and he’d finally found her, but he didn’t want to do that.  His uncle, his only blood relative alive, deserved to know the truth – even if it came back to hurt him.  Besides, she was old enough and they had been married.  Leaning down toward her, Will said firmly, “I’m gonna tell him the truth.”  
  
“We are.”  She gave him a half smile, then got out of the car.  “Together, right?”  
  
His smile was crooked, but genuine.  “Yeah.”    
  
They were halfway to the door when she remembered something.  “Oh, gotta get the cheesecake.”  
  
She turned back to the car, grabbing that and one of the other bags, then turned once more to face her husband.  “You sure we can leave the bags out here tonight?”  
  
He cocked his head to the side, watching her fidget with the bags, realizing she was making a poor attempt to avoid going inside the house.  “Buffy. . . it’s gonna be okay.  Rupes won’t get too upset.”  
  
“You sure about that?  I mean, really, really sure?  He’s not gonna wig on us is he?”  Despite the seriousness of her questions and her fears, Will found himself smiling at her childlike expression.  
  
“He’ll probably lecture me about taking advantage of a young girl and whatnot, but none of that is really gonna matter, kitten.”    
  
“Why?”  
  
“Because,” he stepped close to her, close enough to pull her into his arms and leer down at her.  “You’re mine, kitten, signed and sealed by the State of Nevada, an’ nothing short of the world ending is gonna take me from you.”  
  
By way of response, Buffy wrapped her arms around his waist, stretching up to give him a soft kiss.  
  
“Right then, in we go.”    
  
He hugged her tight, taking the packages from her hands.  Shifting them into his right hand, Will grabbed her with his left, pulling her toward the front door.  
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
  
“What the fuck?”  
  
As prepared as he was to see his uncle, Will was not prepared to find him on his hands and knees scrubbing the living room rug.  
  
“Hello, Will.”  Rupert lurched upwards, almost knocking over the bucket of water at his side.  His glasses slipped down his nose, and as he pushed them back up with a sweaty forearm, he caught sight of the figure behind his nephew.  “Buffy?  Is that you?”  
  
With a nervous glance up at William, the girl stepped out from behind him, smiling warily.  “Hello, Mr. Giles.”  
  
“Oh, dear god.  Are you well?”  
  
Struggling to his feet, Giles dropped the rag into the bucket, uncaring of the dirty water splashing up and over the sides.  
  
“I’m okay.”  
  
Before he could ask anything further, Will’s voice broke the awkward silence.  “What happened?”  
  
With a look of extreme distaste, Giles indicated the spot on the floor.  “Evidently, Kennedy was displeased with your disappearance.  She got into the garbage and managed to knock over the dry dog food as well.”  
  
“Oh no.”  
  
“Where is she?”  
  
“She hasn’t. . . I haven’t seen her since my arrival,” he looked down at his watch.  “About two hours ago.”  
  
Will let loose an ear piercing whistle and yelled out the dog’s name half a second later.  
  
He handed off the bags to Buffy then moved into the dining room, calling for the dog.  
  
Rupert was staring at her, a thoughtful look on his face, which was beginning to make her a bit uncomfortable.  Trying to direct his attention away from her, Buffy spoke.  “How bad was it?”  
  
Shaking his head visibly, Giles knelt on the floor again.  “The entire kitchen was a mess.  She gorged herself more than once and threw up a couple of times.”  
  
They could both hear Will walking through the house, his voice preceding him as he searched for the dog.  
  
Fixing the older man with a semi-smile, Buffy picked up one of the bags and headed toward the kitchen.  “I’ll be right back.  Gotta put the cheesecake in the fridge.”  
  
Just nodding his head in acknowledgment, Giles turned back to his self-appointed task.  
  
Something was going on, Rupert wasn’t that dense – he just wanted clarification of what it was before he commenced with the lecture.  
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
  
The evidence of Kennedy’s displeasure was strewn in places throughout the house.  Will had collected dirty napkins and paper towels and the remains of whatever other garbage in his trek through the rooms, but when he found the first set of Buffy’s panties chewed to bits, his temper frayed.    
  
Wandering into the kitchen, he could hear the low murmur of their voices, the two people he cared most about conversing too softly for him to discern their words.  He strained for a moment, but when neither the volume nor the flow changed, he relaxed and went back to his original task.  Grabbing a garbage bag and some rags, Will headed toward the hallway, almost afraid to look into the bathroom and bedrooms.    
  
  
****************************************************************  
  
  
Giles was surprised when she returned, a fresh bucket of warm soapy water and several rags in hand, more than prepared to help him finish.  Her smile took him by surprise and he found himself returning it.    
  
She looked remarkably well rested, the stress and strain almost gone from her eyes and he hoped it had everything to do with her being here with Will.  Her presence hadn’t been expected at all, though he should have at least entertained the possibility.  Will was, when he put his mind to it, an incredibly persistent person, and fairly stubborn to boot.    
  
Watching her from the corner of his eye, Giles held back all the questions that were dancing on the tip of his tongue, wanting to have them both in the room when he heard the story of their whereabouts.  
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
  
It was as bad as he thought it would be.  Kennedy had gotten into the bathroom and there was dog poop and pee on the floor.  Will grit his teeth, muttering under his breath, while he cleaned up the mess.    
 _  
Damned dog is gonna spend the next week outside.  Not gonna put up with this shite, even if the bitch belonged to Mum_.   
  
He was wiping up the last of the smelly urine, preparing to bleach the floor when he spotted the damage done to the shower curtain.  The entire bottom of the white linen panel was shredded, parts of it hanging by mere threads, and Will felt his temper rising higher.  Getting quickly to his feet, he stripped the curtain down, rolling it into a ball and tossed it into the garbage bag just outside the door.  
  
Dumping some undiluted bleach onto the floor, Will headed into their bedroom.    
  
And promptly roared.  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
They both jumped at the sound of sheer, unadulterated rage echoing through the house.  Buffy was the first to her feet, heading for the source, with Giles close at her heels.  She stopped short when Will wheeled into the hallway, his fists clenched at his sides.  
  
“Will?”  
  
“I’m gonna kill that fuckin’ dog.”  
  
“What happened?”  
  
She moved to go around him, but his hand on her arm stopped her.  “Don’t, sweetheart.”  
  
“Will?  What’s going on?”  Rupert’s voice reminded Will they had an audience, one that didn’t know everything going on, but he could at least get his assistance.    
  
“Need your help, Rupes.  Have to move the mattress out.”    
  
Taking advantage of Will’s momentary distraction, Buffy snuck around him and darted into the bedroom.  
  
Her groaned “Oh no” brought both men into the room behind her.  
  
Kennedy had attacked the bed, ripping the mattress and blankets to shreds, destroying pillows and sheets and everything else on the bed in the process. Feathers were all over the floor, covering the dark rug in a wash of white.  
  
“Oh my.”  
  
“Not exactly what ‘d hoped we’d come home too, pet.”  
  
Buffy spared him a glance, noting the ticking muscles in his cheek and the wild look in his eyes.  She sighed and his attention focused on her.  “Sorry, kitten.  If I’d known, I. . .”  
  
“So not your fault.  Neither of us figured she’d do this.”  She picked up one of the destroyed pillows, a sad smile on her features.  “I really wanted to crawl into bed.”  
  
“We can sleep in the other room.”  His answer was quick, forgetting they had an audience.  
  
“I’ll get the vacuum.”    
  
“You will not.”  Giles realized his tone was harsh when she flinched and he relented somewhat.  “It’s too heavy for you to lift up the stairs.  I’ll get it.  Will, we’re going to need garbage bags.”  
  
“On it.”  
  
Buffy started stripping the linens from the bed while the two men headed off to their appointed tasks.  
  
She was shaking her head, trying not to cry at the destruction of their bedroom – and her brand new pillows.  This wasn’t how she wanted their homecoming to go.  Buffy wanted to snuggle up in Will’s arms recuperating from their whirlwind weekend and just bask in the glow of togetherness until he had to go to work in the morning.  
  
Instead – they had to face Giles – and deal with this mess.  Sniffling hard, Buffy fought off the tears unsuccessfully.  
  
Giles was back in the room quickly, trailing vacuum parts behind him.  He stopped in the doorway, watching Buffy quietly.  It was obvious, by the set of her shoulders she was crying and Giles was moved to pity.  
  
“Buffy?”  
  
Her head whipped up and she furtively wiped away her tears.  “Yeah?”  
  
“Are you all right?”  
  
She tried to lie, but the turmoil and her hormones caught up with her.  “Yeah. . .” and when her breathing hitched she shook her head in denial.  “No.  Not really.  I’m tired and I just wanted to go to bed and I wasn’t ready to see you yet . . . and Will promised. . . and maybe we should just go to England.”  
  
“Oh dear.”  Giles moved into the bedroom, his brain trying to decipher what she’d just said.  He had the sinking suspicion Will had done something rash – without thinking everything through.  Knowing his nephew, he’d set his mind on one path and then been unwilling to see any alternatives.  
  
Regardless of his personal opinions on the matter, Will and Buffy had done something – Giles was loathe to admit what exactly – and he would do his best to wait before he unloaded harsh realities on them.  
  
He rounded the bed, coming to Buffy’s side as he made the decision to wait, his hand lightly touching her shoulder.  The poor girl crumpled before his eyes, leaning into his awkward embrace heavily.  “There, there, dear.  Everything will work out.”  
  
“Buffy?”    
  
Will’s concerned voice sounded seconds before he almost charged into the room, prepared to rescue her from his uncle.  Her face was covered with streaky tears and Will fought against the pounding of his heart.  
  
“Hey, it’s gonna be okay, no more tears, please, kitten.  You know what that does to me.”  She wrapped her arms around his waist, holding on tightly, afraid to look up and see the disapproval she felt coming off his uncle in waves.  
  
“Will, perhaps it’s time you told me what was going on.”    
  
     



	29. Only keeping an animal

_**Twenty-Ninth.  Only keeping an animal  
  
  
A dog in desperation will leap over a wall.   
    Chinese proverb  
  
If a dog doesn’t put you first where are you both?   
In what relation? A dog needs God.   
It lives by your glances, your wishes.   
It even shares your humour.   
This happens about the fifth year.   
If it doesn’t happen you are only keeping an animal.   
     Enid Bagnold  
  
Corner a dog in a dead-end street and it will turn and bite.   
    Chinese proverb.**_  
  
      
  
  
With a deep sigh, Will hugged Buffy close, then let her go.  “All right.  Let’s get this mess taken care of an’ then we’ll talk, okay?”  
  
“Fine.”  
  
Making quick work of stripping off the mattress, Buffy stepped back when the two men lifted it from the box spring and out into the hallway.  Scooping up the linens, she stuffed them into the bags, fighting tears the whole time.  
  
Other than a few comments regarding the removal of the mattress and full bags, they worked in silence, punctuated with Will’s occasional expletives.    
  
Collecting the feathers was proving to be a bit of a problem, until Buffy hit upon the idea of using the vacuum to blow them into a pile before gathering them up.  Neither man would allow her to operate the vacuum, so she was relegated to holding the garbage bag while Giles wielded the nozzle and Will picked up the piled feathers.  
  
When the last handful of feathers was dropped into the bag, Will scanned around the room for signs of other damage, blowing out a deep sigh when he discovered none.  Catching sight of Buffy’s wary expression, he smiled at her, steeling his shoulders for the coming discussion.  
  
“All done?”  
  
“Appears so.”  Rupert picked a couple of loose feathers off his shirt, frowning at nothing in particular.    
  
“Let’s get something to drink, before we start this.”  
  
Without any further comment, his uncle unplugged the vacuum, hit the recoil switch for the plug and heft it in his hand.  “Whenever you’re ready.”  
  
Feeling like they were about to head into the lion’s den and face their first executioner, Buffy gripped Will’s hand tightly and tried to fight the apprehension flooding her belly.  
  
  
*********************************************************************  
  
  
There was an awkward silence when the three of them finally sat down in the living room, Buffy and Will sitting side by side on the couch and Rupert on one of the overstuffed chairs.  She hadn’t let go of her husband’s hand the entire time they’d been sitting, which was more than a few minutes.  She could feel Will’s tension increasing as he struggled to find the words, which was ironic considering how gifted he was normally, her eyes never leaving Giles.  The older man was wrapped up in his own thoughts, not really looking at the two of them, memories of a similar situation rising.    
  
It had been a long time, a very long time since he’d thought of Will’s father and his sister, returning home to face two sets of disapproving parents over their quick marriage.  Anne was just 17 when they met, and James just 19; though they’d waited until James was done with university, Anne hadn’t ever finished, because by the time they were getting settled into their first – and only house - she was already pregnant with Will.  A soft smile crossed his features, remembering how happy they were, despite the opposition from both families.  He schooled his expression quickly, but Will must have seen it, because he started talking.  
  
“Buffy came back two weeks ago.  Found her sleeping in the driveway, curled up next to the DeSoto.  Was damned near at the end of m’rope. . . wasn’t sleeping, or eating.  Nearly stumbled over her on my way out to look again, after trying to rest and. . . an’ there she was.”  Will squeezed her hand, looking down at their meshed fingers.  
  
Rupert raised his eyes to look at Will, struck by the expression on his face.  “I remember.”  
  
“Yeah.  So do I.  Wasn’t going to let her escape again, even though she said she was coming to say one last goodbye before she cleared out of this place.”    
  
Buffy’s voice was low and very soft, hearing this Will’s description of how he found her for the first time.  “Hey, I’m right here, ya know.”    
  
A half smile crossed his features, and Will let out a low nervous chuckle.  “I know.”  
  
Sneaking a glance up at his face, she reached out with her left hand, stroking his cheek.  “I’m not going anywhere, either.  Remember that?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
Giles ignored their byplay, his eyes caught by the glitter of diamonds on her ring finger.  The suspicions he’d been harboring for the last couple of hours were confirmed.  Deciding he didn’t need the details at the moment, he cut right to the heart of the matter and asked outright.  “Where were you this weekend?”  
  
“In Vegas.”  
  
“Doing?”  
  
“We got married yesterday.”  
  
He stared at them for a few moments, unsure of how to formulate the response.  His first reaction was to yell, as was his second.  But catching sight of the expression on Buffy’s face and the pool of tears in her eyes threatening to overspill, Giles curbed his anger.  
  
“It’s not legal, you do know that.”  
  
Buffy’s grip on Will’s hand tightened, and she turned that fearful gaze on him.  “What?  How can that be?”  
  
“It is legal, Rupert.  Buffy’s over eighteen.”  A muscle ticked in his temple, heralding an epic explosion.  
  
“Are you?”  He looked at her and when she shook her head affirmatively, he released the breath he was holding.  “Well then, I stand corrected.”  
  
Once more silence filled the room, each one of the occupants lost in though.  Buffy leaned into Will, and in response he wrapped his arm around her, hugging her close.  He was brushing a kiss on her temple when Rupert’s voice broke the silence.  
  
“You do realize getting married isn’t going to solve everything once the school – once administration gets wind of this you could still lose your job.  There will be questions about when your involvement began.”  
  
“We know all that.”  The new couple shared a look which Giles couldn’t interpret.  
  
Surprisingly, it was Buffy who spoke next.  “I’m not. . . DNA testing will prove Riley’s contribution, even if he tries to get out of paying support.  And,” she glanced once more at Will, “I’m pretty sure my mom won’t say anything.  If the school gives us trouble, we’ll go.”  
  
“Go where?”  But before he even asked, his instincts were telling him where – Will would take her home.  “You do realize going back to England won’t solve all the problems facing you.”  
  
“I’m not stupid, I know that.  Going to England will only go so far too . . . it’ll give us a whole different set of problems.  Buffy would be all alone and I’d have to take the first job offered.”  
  
Well.  Rupert stared at his nephew, unable to form a complete thought.  Apparently Will wasn’t as impulsive as he’d first believed and he had done some thinking on the situation before acting.    Addressing his comments to Buffy, he asked, “Are you prepared for that?”  
  
“If I have to be.  I don’t wanna be apart from Will.  I can’t. . .  I . . .”  She started to cry and Rupert felt no small amount of regret for his harsh tones.  
  
Buffy buried her head into Will’s chest, soft sobs wracking her body.  Will lifted her up, holding her tightly in his arms.  “Shhhh, baby, ‘ve got you.  Shhhhh.”  
  
“My apologies.  It appears neither of you is being unrealistic about this situation.”  
  
“Can’t afford to be.  Once the school knows, it could be all over.  They can’t keep us apart since she’s old enough, but they can still fire me, maybe even arrest me.  It’s not out of the realm of possibilities since Snyder doesn’t like either of us.”  
  
Rupert stifled a sound that was suspiciously like a snort.  “That man doesn’t like anyone.”  
  
“Understatement much?”  Buffy lifted her head from Will’s shoulder, brushing a kiss on his cheek.  “Need to get up for a minute.  I’ll be right back.”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Both men watched her go, heading up the stairs toward the bathroom.  Once she was out of earshot, Will turned to his uncle and said, “Don’t hold back, Rupes, I know you’ve got something to say.”  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
Buffy was tired, drained and almost completely wiped out.  She’d been nearly asleep on the ride home, blissfully so, until they’d pulled into the driveway and discovered Mr. Giles still there.   Then everything had gone from bad to worse.  
  
Kennedy’s destruction in the kitchen was bad enough, but the damage in the bedroom was ten times worse.  _I can’t believe the dog would do that._  
  
The upstairs was quiet.  Except for the mattress in the hallway, no evidence remained from the mess Kennedy had wrought.  Buffy sighed heavily as she washed her face and hands.  She had hoped making things legal would have given them just a little bit of breathing space.  In one respect it had – so what his uncle was here – they were going to have to deal with him sooner or later.  Too bad for them it happened a little bit sooner than they expected.  She really didn’t think Mr. Giles would turn his back on Will – they only had each other; her real worry wasn’t about Giles or oddly enough her own mother.  
  
No.  Her real worry was whether or not Will would stay out of jail and keep his job.  Nothing else was as important.  
  
She leaned against the door, wanting nothing more to crawl into bed and sleep until the morning, Will’s strong arms wrapped tight around her body.  Forcing back her fatigue, Buffy straightened up away from the door and bit back a shriek.  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
They stared at each other for more than a few minutes, neither one of them sure how to break the sudden silence, following Will’s growled statement.  
  
Will was experiencing a sense of profound relief all out of context with the moment.  He knew Rupert had hours worth of things to say, more than likely not a one of them positive or supportive and still he felt like a weight had been lifted.  
  
It was irrational and crazy, he knew it.  Still it didn’t matter one whit.  Relief flooded through him just the same.  
  
For his part, Rupert was of two minds on the situation.  The girl looked happy, more content than he’d seen her in months and she looked at Will as if he were her world.  
  
Resting his eyes on his nephew, Giles was forced to admit she fully reciprocated the feelings he’d realized Will had for her.  
  
Which boded well for them – provided they could weather the storms brewing around them.  
  
The administrator part of him was by turns appalled and disgusted; wondering how long they had suppressed their feelings – and the legal ramifications.  She had been his student.  He was possibly facing some pretty stiff charges, should someone else from the administration discover their circumstances.  
  
Such was the crux of his current moral crisis.  
  
Should he say something to one of his fellow administrators, thereby throwing his only living relative to the wolves, leaving his brand-new wife alone and possibly back under her mother’s roof?  Or should he remain quiet, tacitly condoning their illegal activities?  And just how illegal were their activities anyway?  The girl was eighteen, of legal age in most states; and now that more than a full month had passed, officially AWOL from school and no longer an active student.  So just how morally wrong were they?  
  
In England, she was more than past the legal age.  A case could be argued in Will’s defense that he was acting on instinct, relying on his English upbringing.  However, that line of reasoning posed another set of problems, mostly involving immigration . . . _and really, is this serving any purpose other than muddying the waters?  
_  
Buffy was eighteen; Will twenty-nine on his next birthday.  She’d come from what he was convinced was an abusive situation at home and was in desperate need of someone to support her in the coming months.  Financially she was in a bind, emotionally she was a wreck.  Who else would be able to take care of this girl?  She was too old for a foster home, the dearth of homes or refuges for un-wed mothers left that option out of the equation.  She had, in effect, nowhere to go if Will hadn’t taken her in, hadn’t offered her shelter.  He hadn’t coerced her in any way, if he had, Will certainly wouldn’t have married her.    
  
His thoughts were going round and round with no clear-cut solution.  
  
Did he play the Quisling and turncoat to his only family?  
  
Should he leave them be, let fate make its own decision?  
  
He started to open his mouth, fully prepared to give Will a blistering lecture, pinning back his ears.  What emerged instead surprised both of them.  “You are far too much like your parents.”  
  
“Isn’t exactly an insult.”  
  
“I’m aware of that.”  Giles took off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “Your father was a very impetuous man and your mother always followed her heart.”  
  
Will cocked his head, watching Giles carefully, waiting for the censure to come.  “Not bad traits to have, but William, you have to know this is a potentially precarious situation.  You have skirted the edge of legality, dancing on the edge of a precipice you absolutely cannot afford to fall into.  That girl is relying on you to protect her, to support her and to be with her through everything.”  
  
Taking a deep breath, Rupert continued.  “She loves you unconditionally, and because of that she trusts you.  Neither of you can afford any missteps.”    
  
Exhaling loudly, he leaned forward, looking at Will intently.  “All that being said, I have been very worried about her and I’m very happy to see she’s some where safe, and that she won’t have undue stress about her living situation.  But William,” he put his glasses on the table.  “The least you could have done is let me know beforehand.”  
  
Just as he was about open his mouth to speak, a strange noise came from the second floor, one that had them both on their feet instantly.  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
She tried three times to get around the snarling dog, only to find the dog inching forward every single time.  C _’mon Buffy, it’s only a little dog, she’s not gonna do anything but snarl and yap at ya. . . oohhhkay._  
  
Only that didn’t really work, because Kennedy snapped her jaws at Buffy’s feet catching one of her canines on the loop of Buffy’s bootlace.  She tried shaking her foot to dislodge the dog, but instead Kennedy chomped down, pulling back on the lace, putting Buffy off balance.    
  
 _Maybe not then._  
  
Grabbing onto the door jamb, Buffy barely kept her balance, holding on tightly.  Using her other foot, Buffy pushed the dog away, lifting her up a little by the neck.   She didn’t dare reach down to force Kennedy away, afraid of catching one of her fingers in the dog’s mouth.  Leaning her shoulder onto the door, Buffy tried not to kick hard, but Kennedy was growling and pulling back hard.    
  
“C’mon, Kennedy, let go.  Be a nice doggy and let me go.”  Muttering under her breath, Buffy fought back a little harder, aware of her advantage over the dog.  
  
Somehow she managed to dislodge the terrier, taking the advantage and moving further down the hall.  Buffy had only managed a few steps, when Kennedy lunged toward her, pulling hard on the back of her right heel, knocking her off balance completely.  She twisted, scrambling for something to hold onto so she could remain upright, but then Kennedy let go of her, and caught her other leg in a bite and tripped her up by scrambling around her.  
  
Twisting again to shield her belly, Buffy tucked into a ball, landing heavily on her butt.  A loud thud reverberated in the hallway and she immediately covered her face, blocking Kennedy.  The dog was tugging on her shirt, biting at her wrists and forearms, trying to get purchase around and sink her teeth into Buffy’s flesh.  
  
“Ow, go away!“  
  
She was shaking, breathing heavily in fear, her heart threatening to beat out of her chest.  Buffy was afraid to move, afraid to try and get to her feet, and trying hard to keep Kennedy from biting her arm.  
  
“Stop!  Kennedy, stop it!  Go away!”  Buffy pushed herself away, sliding along the wooden floor, toward the staircase.  
  
They were fighting now, Buffy managing to somehow push the dog’s snout away as she slid further down the hallway.  A noise behind her distracted her for a moment and Kennedy took advantage, launching herself up by her hind legs toward Buffy’s exposed face.  At the last second, Buffy lifted her right forearm, and Kennedy closed her jaws around Buffy’s wrist, gnawing at the skin.  
  
“Fuck!”    
  
Will shot forward, one hand closing around Kennedy’s neck, his other pushing between her clamped jaws, forcing them open.    
  
“God damned fucking dog!”  He growled low, stepping over the huddled form of his wife, forcing the dog away.  “Rupert!”    
  
Giles came up behind him, his arms reaching out to shield Buffy in case the dog managed to break free of Will’s hold.    
  
Wedging two more fingers into Kennedy’s mouth, Will finally managed to get the dog to loosen her grip on Buffy’s arm and he squeezed hard around her neck.  With barely suppressed rage, he shook the dog, lifting her completely off the floor.  Giles pulled Buffy up, holding her against his chest, trying to calm her.    
  
She was crying, panting and gasping for air, her eyes wide with panic.  “Oh my god. . . _oh my god_.”  
  
Kennedy was a snarling, snapping mass of fur and muscle, writhing and wriggling in Will’s grasp.  Rupert tried to lead Buffy away, but the fright caught up with her and her entire body started trembling and shaking.  Loud hiccupping sobs wracked her frame and she faltered almost slumping to the floor.  
  
Will shook the dog hard, unaware of Buffy collapsing behind him.  He managed to get one hand around Kennedy’s snout, holding both sides of her jaws closed.  Tucking her small body under his other arm, Will squeezed harder, drawing yelps of pain from the dog.  A red haze of anger blinded him to everything else, including the two people close to him.  He tightened his hold on Kennedy, until Rupert’s voice calling his name broke through his rage.  “Will?!  Buffy’s in trouble.”  
  
Without thinking, Will pivoted around, thrusting Kennedy’s subdued body at his uncle, his hands reaching for Buffy as she crumpled on the floor.  
  
She was silent, save for the barely audible whimpers and the sound of her gasping breaths.  Kennedy snarled again, fighting against the less secure hold of Giles and Buffy whimpered loudly, jumping when Will reached a hand down to her.  
  
“Jus’ me, kitten, it’s all right.”  He crouched down, drawing her into his embrace, holding her close.  “Rupert, get that fuckin’ dog out of here.”  
  
Sinking down to his knees, Will pulled Buffy in closer to his strong chest.  “It’s okay baby, ‘ve got you. . . shhhhhhh.”  
  
He ran a quick hand over her, checking for broken bones and bloody bites.  “Buffy, did she get you?”  
  
Still unable to form coherent words, all Buffy could do was shake her head negatively.  
  
“C’mon, sweetheart, I need to make sure, lemme look.”  
  
Moving back a little, Will ran a shaky hand over her face, wiping away her tears.  He brushed a kiss on her forehead, murmuring softly to her.  Buffy was cradling her wrist between her breasts and when Will spotted her favoring it, he lifted it away.    
  
Small puncture marks ringed her small wrist, tiny bruises already forming, there was no sign of blood though, something he quickly thanked god for.    
  
“Can you get up?”  Getting to his knees, Will helped her up, letting her lean on him.  “It’s okay, baby.  Gonna be okay.”  
  
Her fingers were twisted into his shirt, holding on with white knuckles, her head lodged into the crook of his neck.  Leaning heavily against him, Buffy tried to calm her breathing and her heartbeat.


	30. Just hold on

_**Thirtieth.  Just hold on  
  
From disaster good fortune comes,   
and in good fortune lurks disaster.   
    Chinese proverb  
  
Hope, the patent medicine  
For disease, disaster, sin.   
    Wallace Rice, Hope  
  
Even the tiniest poodle is lionhearted,   
ready to do anything to defend home,   
master, and mistress.  
    Louis Sabin**_  
  
  
Once away from Buffy, the dog calmed considerably, no longer snapping and struggling in Rupert’s hold.   If he hadn’t witnessed any of this himself, he’d be hard pressed to believe it.  While the dog was high-strung, and sometimes aggressively affectionate, never in the twelve years she’d been part of the family had she done anything remotely this dangerous.  The dog had viciously attacked Buffy, biting and snarling at the girl and he had no idea how badly injured she might be.  
  
Walking through the kitchen, Giles came to the realization that the dog couldn’t be left here, not as long as Buffy was here.  And since the girl was now married to his nephew – well, the dog had to go.  No doubt when Will was thinking a bit more clearly, he’d come to the same conclusion.  For the moment, though, Kennedy was best left outside.  
  
Giles opened the back door, quickly depositing Kennedy in the pen on the side of the house.  She snapped at Clem, almost biting the other dog’s nose and Giles decided to rescue the basset hound.  Pulling the long-eared dog unceremoniously forward by his collar, Giles stepped back, locking Kennedy alone inside the pen.  
  
Satisfied she was secure, Giles led Clem back inside.  After washing his hands, he grabbed the first aid kit from the hall closet, along with peroxide from the refrigerator and headed toward the second floor.  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
Since Lilah had dropped the bombshell about payment on Friday afternoon, Joyce had been steadily making her way through her supply of vodka.  
  
She should have known, when she signed the Letter of Agreement, that something would change in the contract.  A simple contract would have been ready before Buffy’s birthday and that damn binding letter wouldn’t have been necessary.  Instead, the Finns had pulled a fast one on Joyce, almost as if they knew she was going against her daughter’s wishes by accepting their blood money.  
  
What really aggravated Joyce, after nearly drinking her way through most of her waking hours, was that she still couldn’t reach the state of belligerence she’d been reaching for since she left Lilah’s office.  Joyce had wanted to rant and rage at the Finns – for quite a few reasons – not the least of which was their son’s inability to stay away from her daughter.  
  
This wasn’t how Buffy’s life was supposed to go.  She wasn’t supposed to be a mother before she was nineteen, before she had a chance to attend college and live her life.    
  
Joyce sat in her dining room, a full glass of vodka near at hand, photo albums of pictures strewn about the table, slow tears dripping down her face.  
  
Her baby girl was gone, missing and nearly five months pregnant.  Joyce had no idea where she was, nor how to find her.  Fear and despair crashed down, and Joyce was forced to realize part of Buffy’s reluctance to even contact her was because of her own actions.  She’d driven off her own daughter, in practically the same manner she’d driven off her husband.  
  
Joyce stared down at Buffy’s baby pictures and wept over the mess her life had become.  
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
  
They were still in the hallway, in nearly the same positions he’d left them in, Buffy cuddled close in Will’s arms when he returned.  
  
Rupert crouched down, placing the supplies on the floor beside him, his eyes on the two blondes.  His words were soft, so as not to startle Buffy.  “Is she all right?”  
  
“Nothing’s broken an’ there’s no blood.”  He paused, running his hand down her back.  “Think her breathing is okay, but her heart is beating too fast.”  
  
Nodding his understanding, Giles was more concerned with Buffy’s pregnancy.  “Buffy?  Have you got any sharp pains anywhere. . . or cramping?”  
  
Will’s hands tightened fractionally on her and Buffy squeezed back, her voice not yet calmed.  “No.  I’m okay. . . the baby’s okay.”  
  
“Are you certain?”  Giles knew how precarious things could be, and she had just had the fright of a lifetime.”  
  
“Yeah.  I’m okay.”  
  
She was still cradling her wrist and Giles wanted to take a better look at it, since it appeared Kennedy had managed to get a good grip on it.  “Can I take a look at that?”  
  
Buffy held her wrist out, wincing when Giles turned it over.  “I think perhaps you should have that looked at before the night is over.”  
  
“I’m fine.  Really.  I’ll just take some aspirin and go to bed.”  
  
Giles shared a look with Will over her head, and the younger man, who’d been quiet for the last few minutes, finally spoke.  “I’d feel better if we called the doc an’ got his opinion, okay, kitten?”  
  
She sighed, then not too graciously gave in.  “Fine.  Call.”  
  
Both men got to their feet, Will leaning down and sweeping Buffy up into his arms.  “Might as well do this in the kitchen.”  Thinking for a moment, he looked toward his uncle.  “Where did you put the dog?”  
  
“She’s outside in the pen.”  
  
“Good.  Not letting her back in tonight.”  
  
“Actually, Will, I was thinking perhaps I should take the dog with me tonight when I leave.”  
  
Sharing a look with Buffy, Will said, “You sure?  She’d be all right outside.”  
  
“I’m sure.  You can’t leave her here with Buffy come the morning.”  
  
“No, suppose not.  Wouldn’t be safe.”  Will nodded once, saying, “Thanks Rupes, ‘ppreciate it.”  
  
Will dropped Buffy gently on the counter, reaching for the phone while Giles got a better look at her wrist.  Murmuring softly under his breath, more to himself than Buffy, the older Englishman said, “Don’t think it’s broken, but it could be sore for a day or so.  And this is a fine welcome to the family.”  
  
Buffy didn’t say anything, though his words brought fresh tears to her eyes.  
  
  
****************************************************************  
  
  
The kitchen was quiet, the other occupants straining to listen to the quiet tones of Will’s conversation.  Buffy was sitting silently while Giles cleaned off her wrist, both of them staring down at her wrist but focused clearly on Will’s voice.  
  
He hung up the phone, turning to face the other two who looked up the moment he’d put the phone down.  Buffy’s face was too pale for his liking and he took note of the strain around her mouth and eyes.  Unfortunately, at the moment, he couldn’t ease her fears.  
  
“Doc’s gonna call back.”  
  
“That wasn’t him?”  
  
“No, just the service, they’ll beep him and he’ll call us.”  
  
Buffy’s slump was visible and Will could make out the flash of tears on her lashes and he decided he was putting her to bed.  “C’mon, kitten, time for bed.”  
  
“What?”  The quaver in her voice set his body in motion.  
  
“Been a busy weekend, an’ you should be in bed.”  Scooping her up into his arms, Will nodded at Giles as he passed his uncle.  “Hang about, Rupert, I’ll be right down.”  
  
Curling her arms around Will’s neck, Buffy leaned her head against his shoulder, nuzzling into him.  “You feeling okay, sweets?”  
  
A shiver worked its way through her body and Buffy sighed.  “I’m tired, Will.”  He could feel tears seeping into his shirt.  “And I really wanted to sleep in our bed.”  
  
“Oh, baby, I know.”  He carried her smoothly up the stairs, his eyes fastened on hers, his feet steady, his hold sure.  “We’ll go tomorrow and get a new bed, one that’s really ours.  Hell, if you want, we’ll redecorate the whole bloody house.”  
  
“New pillows?”  She pulled back to look at him and at his nod, Buffy gave him a sad little smile.  “Can we get lots of pillows?”  
  
“Anything you want, kitten, anything at all.”  
  
“Will, I love you.”  
  
“I love you too, baby.”  He pushed open the door to the guest room.  Placing her gently down on the bed, Will brushed a kiss on her forehead.  “Stay here, I’ll get your stuff.”  
  
“Kay.”  
  
  
****************************************************************  
  
  
Rupert walked about the downstairs rooms, tidying up as he roamed.  Now that he knew about her presence, it wasn’t hard to pick out the evidence, Buffy’s touch was all over the house.  Will’s papers were no longer strewn about, and there was the surprising presence of flowers in some of the rooms.  Two weeks.  Just two scant weeks Buffy had been in residence and already Giles could see the changes she’d wrought.  
  
Tension abounded, though none of it was between the newlyweds.  They presented a united front, no matter what confronted them.  Will had responded quickly to Buffy’s distress, worry and anger clearly written on his features.  He’d never witnessed this protective, caring side of Will and it boded well for their future.  William didn’t appear angry or resentful of the pregnancy, which was something that could come into play, causing a rift between them.  Instead, it appeared to have given them a sense of joined purpose, a reason for being a family.    
  
Quite possibly their coming together was something inevitable, and though their ages currently presented something of a problem, in five years it wouldn’t matter at all.  And Rupert found himself conceding to the idea they would last more than those five years.  If the emotions, caring, empathy, and love he saw were any indication of what the two were actually feeling, Giles was convinced they’d be celebrating many anniversaries.    
  
He swiped at the dining room table, wiping off imaginary specks of dust, when his eyes were caught by the small picture on the wall.  It was one of the few pictures of James and Anne on their wedding day, one of the few that existed.  The look on both their faces was one he recognized, especially considering it was the same expression Will had been wearing most of the night.    
  
 _Well, you two, I hope you’re prepared to watch over them, because they’re going to need all the guardian angels they can get._  
  
Giles looked up when he heard Will’s feet on the stairs.  
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
  
He dropped her nightgown on the bed, brushing kisses over her face.  “Go on into bed, baby.  I’ll be up in a bit.”  
  
“Will?”  Her voice stopped him at the door and he turned around to look at her.  
  
“What’s up?”  
  
“Tell Giles I said thank you.”  
  
He leaned against the doorjamb, his eyes on her.  “Is he gonna know why you’re thanking him?”  
  
“Probably not.  Just tell him I said thank you for not yelling at us.”  
  
He shook his head, laughing a bit.  “Sure thing.”  
  
Before she could say anything else, Will was gone downstairs.  
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
  
Giles was walking from the dining room into the kitchen when Will came thundering down the stairs.  
  
“Buffy says thanks for not yelling at us.”  
  
His uncle stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes surprised behind his round glasses.  “Good lord.  Did she really think I would’ve done that?”  
  
Will shrugged.  “I get the feeling she’s been yelled at a lot for things that weren’t always her fault or doing.”  
  
“Have you asked her about the bruises?”  
  
A shake of his head was the answer, followed by a deep sigh.  “Haven’t talked about things like that.  Don’t think she’s ready.  Maybe when life’s settled down a bit, I’ll ask her if she wants to talk to someone about her parents.  She’s gonna need more help than I can give her.”  
  
The older man smiled sadly, then broached another subject that had been on his mind for a while, despite how uncomfortable the subject made him.  “There’s no sign of any other kind of abuse is there?”  
  
Will stared at him, a horrified look creeping into his eyes.  “No.  An’ there damn well better not be.”  
  
Giles held up his hands.  “Relax.  It’s merely a question.  You have to admit though, that the possibility exists, given the other evidence.  She’s not skittish, is she?”  
  
“I can’t believe you’re asking about our sex life, Rupes.”  Will turned away, unwilling to delve more into this subject.   Before Giles could explain himself further, embarrassing both of them, Will said, “She’s not skittish.  We’re fine there.”  
  
“Well that’s a relief.”  The older man wiped his brow, grateful this wasn’t another obstacle the couple would have to overcome.    
  
“So. . . were you about to yell?”  
  
Will’s question caught him by surprise and Rupert had to focus his thoughts for a moment.  “No, I really wasn’t.  My first reaction was to do just that, but seeing you together convinced me your intentions were honest and you weren’t taking advantage of her.”  
  
His nephew turned around sharply, staring at him with a look of disbelief on his features.  “You actually thought that . . . that I would take advantage of her?  What kind of person do you think I am?”  
  
Giles took off his glasses, peering myopically at his nephew.  “Hold on, Will, look at this dispassionately.  You’re nearly twenty-nine and her teacher.  She’s just eighteen, in a very vulnerable position.  Do the math.”  
  
Shaking his head, Will spluttered a bit, trying to come up with something to say, but words escaped him momentarily.  Instead he just stared, his mind utterly blank.  
  
“Is that how you see . . .  Is that what you thought?  Christ, Rupert, you know me better than that.  What the hell were you thinking?”  
  
“I was thinking how your relationship might look to your boss.”  
  
The stark truth was, and Will knew this, what Rupert was saying was exactly – _exactly_ – what someone who didn’t know him would think.  And it was that kind of mind set they were going to face from people who discovered their story.  There would always be a stigma attached to their relationship – it was something they were going to have to deal with and dispel.  
  
A deep sigh broke from Will and he ran a hand through his hair, dislodging his curls.  “Fucking hell, Rupert. . .what kind. . . shouldn’t have to deal with this shite from you.”  
  
“Perhaps.  The truth is, you’re always going to face something like this.”  Rupert paused, his eyes filling with sympathy.  His next words deflated whatever anger Will might be feeling, going a long way to healing the brief rift that had just developed between them.  “You’ve got my support, both of you.  Anything you need.  Buffy’s going to need the support of everyone around her and so are you.  I’d never forgive myself if I turned my back on either of you.  Not to mention your mother would haunt me forever.”  
  
A reluctant grin teased at Will’s mouth and he nodded.  “I think she’s been after me.  Mum’s been on m’mind from the first.  Buffy kind of reminds me of her.”  
  
For some reason that didn’t surprise Giles at all.  “My guess is you’ve got her blessing then.”  
  
“Maybe.”  
  
A yawn cracked Giles’ face and he was very suddenly feeling his age and the time.  “Right then, on that note, Will, I’m off.  Get some dog food while I get Kennedy.”  
  
“You sure about taking her?”  
  
“Positive.  Buffy shouldn’t have to worry about the dog on top of everything else.”  
  
It took them just a few minutes to get everything together and then before he knew it, Giles and Kennedy were gone and he was on his way upstairs to Buffy.  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
Growling barks and yowling yips woke him from a sound, dreamless sleep, and at first Will had no idea where he was or what was going on, until he opened his bleary eyes to see Clem almost on the bed.  His snout was inches away from Will’s face and he pushed the dog away, grumbling heavily.  “C’mon, you stupid dog, don’t wake Buffy up.  She needs to sleep.”  
  
Though when Will sat up, Buffy wasn’t in the bed beside him, and Clem was still barking urgently, the noise taking on an edge he hadn’t ever heard the normally placid basset hound use before.  Throwing back the blankets, he stumbled to his feet, an itch forming on the back of his neck.  He had no idea how long she’d been gone from the bed, nor did he know where she was or what she’d been doing.  The fear he always carried, one he hadn’t dared give voice to, was that one day she’d disappear from his life.  Just slipping out from his hands, never to be seen or heard from again.  
  
Clem was standing in the doorway, his bark now almost a constant, high-pitched yip of urgency and Will didn’t even bother looking for a tee shirt, just followed the dog.    
  
To his relief, Clem stopped outside the bathroom door, no longer barking, just panting heavily and scratching to be let in.  “All right, buddy, let’s see what’s going on, okay?”  
  
Will knocked once, calling out softly her name.  “Buffy?  You in there, love?”  
  
There was no answer and Will stared down at the dog for a minute, as he leaned against his leg.  “Buffy?”  
  
 _No sound. What the hell?  Did she fall asleep in there an’ that’s why Clem’s all upset?_   “Sweetheart?”  
  
He turned the knob and had to push open the door because something heavy was blocking it.  Barely able to squeeze past Buffy’s slumped form, Will’s panic grew.  “C’mon, baby, wake up.  Buffy?  Baby, just move a little bit so I can get through the door.”  
  
She stirred at the sound of his voice, eyes opening just a little, lifting her head from the floor.  He pushed the door just a little bit harder, trying not to hurt her, but now anxious to get inside to where she was.  “Buffy, baby, you need to wake up and move, just a little bit.”  
  
“Wi. . . Will?”    
  
“That’s it, sweetheart, just move your legs.”  Buffy did as his voice commanded, unable to focus on anything else.  She was groggy and barely with it, and he could hear the confusion in her voice.    
  
“I’m cold, Will.”  
  
 _Oh fuck. . ._   “Buffy.  You need to move away from the door.”  
  
Nothing but silence greeted him, and Will felt the fear roil about in his belly, threatening his breathing.  His heart sounded loud in his ears and he couldn’t hear her moving over the sound of his own rasping breaths.  Will pushed against the door, using minimal pressure in case she had actually shifted away from the door.  The door gave a little bit, and Will was finally able to slip in.    
  
Without looking around, he was down on his knees, checking her pulse and breathing before he moved her.  “Buffy, sweets, you need to open your pretty eyes and look at me.   C’mon, honey, please look at me.”  
  
He had nothing more than a passing knowledge of first aid, especially in this circumstance.  Buffy’s eyes fluttered open and he smiled down at her.  “Hey, you, are you okay?”  
  
“Dunno.”  She gave him a weak smile, and Will stared down at her, unable to think.    
  
“Are you hurt?  Did you fall?”  Down on his knees beside her, Will looked around, grabbing a towel from the rack and sliding it under her head.  “I’m gonna pick you up, okay?”  
  
“Will? I’m so cold.”    
  
Her voice was thin, barely more than a whisper and Will grabbed a big beach towel, wrapping it around her.  He looked around again and his eyes fell on the unflushed toilet,  and he fought the fresh wave of panic.    
  
 _Oh Jesus.   Not now.  Not this._  
  
The toilet was awash with pink fluid, and telltale smears of red ringed the toilet seat.  
        



	31. Taking care of business

_**Thirty-first.  Taking care of business  
  
The pain, the calm, and the astonishment,  
Desire illimitable, and still content,  
And all dear names men use, to cheat despair,  
    Rupert Brooke, The Great Lover  
  
Romance is tempestuous.   
Love is calm.   
    Mason Cooley, City Aphorisms, Eighth Selection**_  
  
  
                      
He’d called Rupert from the car, waking the old man up, with barely understood instructions to meet them at hospital.  The doctor was on his way, and all Will had to do now was just keep calm and get Buffy there with a minimal amount of stress and as quickly as he humanly could.  
  
 _I’m not going to panic . . . I’m not going to panic.  She’s fine, she’s gonna be fine.  Nothing’s wrong.  Baby’s fine and she’s fine._  
  
Will looked over at her, curled up against his side, her legs curled up protectively.  She was awake, but silent and he wondered what was going through her mind at the moment.  His right hand brushed over her head, smoothing the tangles of her hair and Will felt his heart contract and his belly clench.  _She has to be okay.  I can’t. . . Gotta be strong.  She’s fine.  
_  
The traffic lights spun in their cycles as he drove toward the hospital, the mantra repeating endlessly in his head in time to the turn of wheels.  
 _  
Baby’s fine. . . Buffy’s fine._  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
Giles fumbled through his apartment, barely awake and unable to clear his fuzzy head.  Will’s frantic phone call had woken him from a fitful sleep and now his poor brain was struggling to catch up with his fears.    
  
This was unfair.  The poor girl deserved a break, something to go right for her, just this once.  Addressing his inner comments to both himself and a god he knew existed somewhere, Rupert Giles grabbed his coat and keys and headed out into the early morning darkness.  
  
  
****************************************************************  
  
  
Scooping her up, with the blanket he’d grabbed on the way out the door still wrapped around her, Will brushed a kiss on Buffy’s forehead.  “It's okay, baby, we’re at hospital.  The doctor’s gonna be here in a couple of minutes and Rupert’s on his way.”  
  
“Cold, Will, I’m so cold.”  She rested her head over his heart, listening to the rapid beats thumping against her ear.   
  
“I know, baby.  I’ll get you inside in a minute.  Just hold on.”  He struggled to tuck the blanket around her and Buffy held the edges against her, fingers tangled up in his tee-shirt and the blanket.  
  
Her softly whispered assent was all he needed to get moving toward the Emergency Room doors.  Thankfully, the waiting room was empty and they were waved right through into the triage area once he’d told the on-duty nurse of the situation.    
  
Before they knew it, Buffy’s vitals had been taken, a fetal monitor was slapped on her belly and they were waiting for the doctor.  It all happened so fast that Will barely had time to get used to being in the hospital before Buffy was hooked up to every machine possible.  She was lying on the gurney, the blankets covering her, curled up on her side, watching him pace through the room.  
  
Nervous energy flooded through him and even though he rationally knew they hadn’t been waiting long, it still felt interminable.  They could hear the noise of beeps and whirrs of the different machines running in the other cubicles and the low murmur of voices, though none of it penetrated the atmosphere in their space.    
  
“Will?”  Buffy’s voice broke through his musing and he whirled around to face her.  “Come sit with me please?”  
  
In a flash he was at her side, one hand reaching for hers, the other laid gently over her head, his thumb brushing over her forehead.  “Is there anything you need, kitten?”  
  
“Just you.”  She smiled at him wearily, the expression not reaching her eyes.  
  
“I’m right here, baby, not going anywhere.”  He glanced around, looking for some place to sit and finding nothing, he perched on the edge of the bed.  “How’re you feeling now?  Any pains?”  
  
“No.  Not even any cramping either.  I don’t know what’s wrong or why. . . I’m just tired and cold.”    
“So there’s no pain anywhere, Miss Summers?”    
  
They both jumped at the sound of the doctor’s voice, Will sliding down off the gurney and turning to face the cubicle opening.    “No, no pains.  And it’s Mrs. Stevenson now.”  
  
“It is?  Well then congratulations are in order.”  The doctor shook Will’s hand, then scanned over the forms in his other hand.   “So let me take a look at all this stuff.”  
  
He moved over to the printouts from the fetal monitor,  his eyes flicking from one beeping machine to the other.  A slight smile crossed his features and he spoke without looking at either of them.  “The readings all look good, but I’m going to do an ultrasound and we’ll see what’s really going on.”  
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
  
Breezing into the waiting room, Rupert headed directly to the information desk, the question about Buffy on his lips.  This was potentially bad and he was loathe to admit there might be the need to contact Buffy’s mother.   He shied away from the action, though, knowing if he did call her, neither of the two would likely ever forgive him.  And he’d just made his peace with Will and his own thoughts.  He wasn’t about to throw that all away by betraying them to Joyce Summers.  Besides, he had no idea if the woman even knew where her daughter was staying or what had happened the past weekend.  
  
He’d not asked, and nor had either of them volunteered any information about the status of Buffy’s relationship with her mother, though Giles had a sneaking suspicion the woman had no idea of any of this.  And he was fairly certain Buffy hadn’t seen her mother since that fateful morning when her world had seemingly collapsed around her.  So he wasn’t going to be the one to force the two women into speaking to each other when it was quite obvious Buffy wasn’t asking for her mother.    
  
Without any way to get any clear information, Giles headed for the information desk for the second time anyway.    
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
The hospital gown was bunched up around her breasts, the blankets pushed down, barely covering her hips and there was a weird slightly bluish gel covering his new wife’s belly.  The fetal heart monitor was thumping away rapidly and the doctor had some weird contraption pulled next to the bed, a flattish paddle circling over Buffy’s barely distended belly.    
  
Will stood behind her, one of her cold hands wrapped in his; the other resting on her head, his thumb making small circles on her scalp.  Every once in a while the doctor would stop and make an adjustment, his eyes fixed on the monitor, almost ignoring the other occupants of the cubicle.  Without any preamble, the doctor started pointing out things, one finger on the monitor and the other hand wielding the paddle.    
  
“Here’s the baby’s head, ears and those dark areas are the eyes.”  The paddle moved a bit, and he continued, “Heart is pumping away steadily, but you can hear that.  Do you want to know the baby’s sex?”  
  
The question caught them both by surprise and Buffy glanced up at him quickly, while Will just sort of stared at the monitor.  It was hard to tell, really, what was what, except when the doctor pointed it all out, but he was still mesmerized by the sight of the little tiny baby inside her.  She was so tiny herself . Hard to imagine another human being in there.  He came back to himself when Buffy tugged on his hand, drawing his attention back to the doctor’s question.    
  
A half smile crossed his features and his eyes held a warmth Buffy hadn’t ever seen from anyone before.  He shook his head negatively, whispering, “I’ll leave that up to you, kitten, whatever you want to do is fine by me.”  
  
She thought about it for a moment, then did as he’d done, and shook her head.  “I like surprises.”  
  
The doctor did some adjusting, then chuckled.  “It seems our baby here doesn’t want you to know either.  Can’t get a good look, so we’ll just have to wait until the debut.”  
  
Will cleared his throat, asking, “So how does everything look?”  
  
“It looks like you got a bit more jostled than you should have, but otherwise everything is okay.”  He put the paddle down, turned off the monitor and then started wiping the gel off Buffy’s belly.  “All right, now to the serious stuff.”    
  
The doctor headed over to the sink, washed his hands and came back.  “You’ve had more than one shock to your system during the course of this pregnancy so far, and while you haven’t yet sustained any serious damage, I’m concerned.  Your nutrition is down, you missed two appointments and you’ve been generally neglecting your health.  This latest incident, with the dog, is more of what I’d like to think of as a wake-up call.”  
  
Helping Buffy right herself, one eye on the doctor, Will grimaced.  He had no idea she wasn’t doing what she was supposed to do.  He knew about one missed visit, not the second one, and he’d known nothing about her nutritional issues.  _What kind of damage had she done by running away?_  
  
“I want you off your feet for two weeks, and I’m seriously advising you to take nutritional supplements, in addition to the prenatal vitamins you’re supposed to be taking daily.  You have to increase your milk and cheese intake and you have to get more vegetables.  No more junk food, despite the cravings.”  
    
“Two weeks?”  There was a tired whine to her voice, but other than the two word question, Buffy didn’t say anything else.  
  
“You took a hard fall.  The bleeding is just a sign that you have to take it easy and rest for a while, because the placenta is still intact.  Since there’s nothing else wrong and the baby’s heartbeat is strong and steady, I’m just prescribing bed rest.  And no sex for two weeks.”  
  
“What?!”  Buffy stared at the doctor, an indescribable look on her face.    
  
  
***************************************************************  
  
  
Giles had told him not to worry about calling in, he would arrange for a substitute to cover his classes so they could both sleep late.  It was so obvious they were both exhausted when Buffy finally had been released from emergency care that Giles couldn’t do anything else.  Poor Buffy looked shell shocked, all the stress and strain of the last few months etched on her face.  She hardly looked her age, fatigue written large on her features.  Will wasn’t much better, and Giles had been afraid the news was very dire.  Instead, it was his sense of guilt and responsibility wreaking havoc with his nephew’s equilibrium.    
  
So that was why he was standing in front of a classroom for the first time in nearly fifteen years.  The last minute substitute wasn’t qualified to teach Will’s senior lit class, so he’d stepped in to cover.  He found it ridiculously ironic that his niece would have been sitting with these students – they all seemed so very young.  Not that he’d had to step in – this was entirely his choice.  Any substitute could have given them the lesson and assignments and just let them go, but Giles decided to cover, as sort of a silent apology to Will.  
  
Taking this class also gave him an opportunity to speak to Willow Rosenberg, without raising anyone’s suspicions, which was something Buffy had asked him to do before they sped off home.  Buffy wanted to speak with her best friend, and Giles was rapidly forming and discarding multiple scenarios of how to arrange a meeting between the two.  The easiest would be to have all of them meet at his house, save for Buffy’s confinement to bed.    
  
 _To hell with it. . . . no one can fault all of us and Buffy needs this._  
  
“Miss Rosenberg?  Would you stay behind a moment when we’re through?”  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
He’d carried her downstairs so she could watch television and then left to do some much needed shopping – both food and other supplies.  They’d both slept very late, until noon and although it was much needed, Will still felt groggy and sluggish.  He was also very worried about Buffy.  She hadn’t said much more than a few words after they left the hospital, her mind and thoughts apparently very far away.  He’d let it go then, unwilling to engage her in a deep discussion at that hour of the morning.  That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to let it slide.  He’d let a lot of things slide in the short weeks she’d been back, but none of that mattered anymore.  They were going to have to talk.  Sooner rather than later.  She had to start taking better care of herself, otherwise they were going to be in for a long hard time.  
  
Loading his shopping cart, Will realized he had no idea what – other than a few choice dinner items – she really liked to eat.  He knew she liked pancakes, waffles and pasta, _don’t forget the cheese_ , but beyond that, he had no clue.  It struck him then, in the middle of the supermarket, that he didn’t really know his wife.  Oh, he knew her – thoughts, dreams, fears, hopes – the things she wanted.  But he had no clue about the mundane things, what she liked to eat, what she liked to wear – what her favorite color was.  Silly things really, when he got right down to it, since he knew all the important stuff.  Because really, when it came down to it, those things weren’t important and tastes changed as one got older.  He knew the essential Buffy.   That was what mattered.  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
 _Hey, baby, it’s Mommy . . .  but I guess you know that, coz you can feel me.  You gave me a big scare last night, and not just me.  You scared the hell outta Will. . . er. . . I mean Daddy.  He wants you to call him that.  He is your Daddy though, much . . . no, not gonna mention his name, because he’s not part of our lives anymore._  
  
Buffy ran a soft hand over her belly, smoothing the blankets and Will’s tee-shirt.  _You have to stay put baby, until it’s really time to come out.  Mommy loves you so much and so does your Daddy and we’re a family so you have to do your part to keep us that way.  Doctor says we have to stay in bed, which is so not fun, but if it’s gonna keep you safe, then Mommy is going to do it._  
  
Shifting a bit on the couch to get a bit more comfortable, Buffy reached for the orange juice Will had left for her.  Draining the glass, she dropped it on the table and briefly focused on the television.  Some dumb program was on and she idly flipped the channels, not really focusing on anything.   For no reason at all, tears welled up in her eyes and she tried wiping them away, but they still fell.  She leaned back against the arm of the couch, staring up at the ceiling.  
  
 _So I’m not really sure how to pray, was never really into church and Mom never insisted we go. Well, anyway, here’s the thing. . . I’m asking you to please help me.  Please don’t let anything happen to my baby.   I’ll do anything . . . . Just keep baby safe . . ._    
  
Her words echoed through her head in an endless loop until finally her eyes closed and she drifted off to sleep.  
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
  
She was asleep on the couch when he got home, lying on her back, one arm flung over her head, the other hanging down toward the floor.  Her mouth was opened minutely and every once in a while she’d emit a soft snore, the sound making him smile.  
  
Deciding against disturbing her, instead Will focused on fixing their evening meal.  Even though he’d promised her they would go shopping for new bedroom furniture, the doctor had been very explicit in his instructions, Buffy was to stay off her feet except for bathroom visits.  Which meant unless she was willing to shop and order on-line, new furniture would have to wait . . .   maybe he could convince her to look for baby furniture at the same time.    
  
Leaving her on the couch, Will grabbed the fresh vegetables he’d bought and started to put together a meal.  The steak was marinating and he was chopping carrots when the phone rang.  
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
  
The front door closing, followed by the soft whisper of voices, coupled with Clem’s excited barking woke her.  At first Buffy had no idea where she was, her brain fogged with disjointed and disturbing dreams, but the sound of Will trying to get Clem to be quiet gave her focus.  
  
“C’mon, you dopey mutt, quiet down or you’ll wake Buffy.”  
  
She smiled, hearing the concern clearly and she called out softly, “It’s okay, I’m awake.”  
  
A muffled curse reached her ears and as she struggled to sit up, she could hear his footsteps in the hallway, followed by another set.  
  
“Hey, kitten, how’re you feeling?”  He was standing in the doorway, watching her.  
  
“Okay, I guess.  A little sore and really thirsty, but better than I did before.”  
  
He nodded, coming closer toward where she was laying on the couch.  “What do you fancy to drink?”  
  
“Did you get the juices I asked you to? Coz I could really go for some OJ.”  
  
“I did.”  He paused, looking down at her.  “Feel up to some company?”  
  
“Depends.  Who you got in mind?”  
  
“Me.”  
  
Willow popped her head around the door, concern mixed with wary happiness and excitement on her face.  
  
“Oh my god!  Willow!  Come in!”  
  
Will stepped back as the redhead approached, an indulgent smile on his features.    
  
“How did you get here?”  
  
“Ah, well, Mr. Giles told me what happened last night and he thought it might be good for me to come visit.  Are you okay?”  
  
“Much better now.  Will was so good to me last night.  But I’m all stuck in bed Buffy so that’s not good.”  
  
He brushed a kiss on the top of Buffy’s head and slipped from the room.  Giles’ idea was brilliant, probably just what his girl needed – another bird to chatter with – and even though he knew they were all taking a huge chance, Will couldn’t deny Buffy this simple pleasure.  His uncle and Jenny would be arriving soon, and Willow had taken a ridiculously circuitous route to the house, or so she claimed, and he wasn’t going to worry.  
  
Especially not now . . .  
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
  
“Stuck in bed?”  
  
Buffy was shaking her head.  “Yup. The doctor’s really concerned this might mean more trouble, so he wants us to take extra precautions.”  
  
“So what else do you have to do?”  Willow sat down on the floor next to the couch, facing Buffy, who made a face at her question.  
  
“Gotta take better care of myself and eat right, take my vitamins and stuff.”  She fiddled with her rings, circling them around her finger, her eyes not looking at her best friend.  
  
“Oh!  Lemme see?” Willow, after catching sight of the rings, practically bounced up on her knees, reaching for Buffy’s hand.  “Buffy!  They’re gorgeous!”  
  
The blond’s smile was blinding and both girls squealed a little, on a pitch that had Clem charging in from the other room, howling along with them.  “So . . .   Buffy . . .  Mrs. Stevenson, what’s it like being married to the hottest English teacher ever?”  A sly look came over her face and she stuttered out the most pressing question on her mind.  “Have you . . .  what’s the . . . how’s the . . .  sex?”  
  
“ _Willow Rosenberg!_ ”  Buffy’s loud exclamation brought a look of fright to her friend’s features and the redhead struggled with embarrassment, trying to backtrack.  
  
“I didn’t say that out loud.  That was just a really loud thought, right?  I wouldn’t ask that.  No sirree.  Nope.  Not me.”  
  
Buffy couldn’t hold back the laughter, watching Willow’s face turn a shade of red only slightly paler than her hair.  “Oh, yes, you did.”  
  
“No.  Nah huh.”  
  
“You so did.  That was all you.“  Buffy leaned forward, whispering right into Willow’s very bright face, “You so asked me that.  And Wills?  It’s really pretty freaking damn good.”  
  
“Really?”  
  
“Yes really, like the best.”  
  
And it was Buffy’s turn to blush when Will stepped into the room, asking, “What’s the best?”  
  
The gales of laughter greeting his question had Will scratching his head, until he caught the blushes covering their faces.  A sly smirk bloomed across his lips and Will shook his head, deciding against making a comment.  He did catch his wife’s eye and he leered at her, winking as he did.  Dropping the beverages onto the table, Will beat a hasty retreat, leaving the girls on their own.  He was headed back toward the kitchen when the doorbell caught his attention.  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
Joyce Summers stood in the doorway of her only daughter’s room, taking in the unmade bed, the dirty clothes and general disorganization that had always marked her daughter’s presence.  Swallowing past the lump and fighting tears, Joyce knew Buffy’s continued silence was directly attributable to the way she’d treated her.  She’d been hurtful, unwilling to give her daughter the support she’d needed.  Instead, she’d hurled accusations, anger-filled and hurtful, designed to wound her only child.  Was that any way to treat her?    
  
Buffy was her flesh and blood, part of her – carried within her body for months . . .  and now they were little more than strangers.  And blame for that could be laid squarely on her own shoulders.  
  
Question was – how could she possibly repair any relationship with her daughter – how was she going to make amends?  
  
Was it even possible?  
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
  
Dinner had gone well, the awkward moment when Jenny Calendar answered Buffy’s innocent question on how she’d met Giles the only unpleasant note of the entire evening.  Will had frozen when Jenny told the girls, his eyes flashing quickly on his wife’s face.  Luckily for him, she hadn’t given it a second thought, primarily because Jenny made a point of saying when their disastrous date had taken place. The sigh of relief had him feeling a bit lightheaded, until he caught Buffy staring at him, an enigmatic look on her face.  He forced a smile, trying hard to glean some sort of signal from her, but she wasn’t flinching.  
  
Though Jenny wasn’t aware of it, she was solidifying things in Buffy’s mind about just what Will had felt for her before they started dating – or whatever it was they were doing meeting in the cemetery almost every night.  
  
And yet . . . there she was sitting at their dining room table, the candlelight making her creamy skin glow, the dark lights in her hair and eyes soaking up all the light and . . . She was so sophisticated, so worldly, so sure of herself and her allure.  Buffy couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy that flared through her.  Will had taken Jenny out on a date, spent time and money on her and . . . What _else_ had they done?    
  
“So how did you meet Will?”  The words held an edge to them that made her cringe as soon as they were out of her mouth, but no one seemed to notice them, not even her husband.  
  
“We met at the Espresso Pump, on open mike night.”  Jenny smiled warmly at Will, causing a constriction around Buffy’s heart.  “He’s usually the last act of the night, since he’s so popular and really good, and one night I was on just before him and well, we got to talking, waiting to go on.  I kind of held him up that night, because my act ran over, but he very nicely gave up some of his own time for me.  I asked him to dinner to make up for it.”  A funny look crossed Jenny’s features, and she was silent for a moment.  “But our only date was a complete bust.  And now I know why.”  
  
Willow scanned the table, feeling the undercurrents of some emotion she couldn’t name and without thinking, blurted out the first thing she could think of.  “Why?”  
  
“Because, long before we were finished eating, I knew somehow his mind wasn’t on me or where we were or what we were doing.  He was a bit distracted.”  She exchanged a glance with Rupert, who smiled indulgently at her, then continued.  “He told me there was someone else he thought I should meet.”  
  
“Oh?”  This time Will did catch the edge in her voice and he stared at her, though Buffy wouldn’t meet his eyes.    
  
“He introduced me to Rupert two days later.  And I’m really very glad he did.”  Rupert took hold of her hand and kissed the back of it, and the two shared a heated gaze.  “We have much more in common.”  
  
“Really?”  This time it was Willow who asked the obvious question.  
  
“Yes.  I’m more interested in old, classical things.  Antiques and all that.”  Her teasing grin caused Giles to splutter out he wasn’t to be included in that category, but Jenny just kept that grin playing about the corners of her mouth and he finally gave in, laughing along with her to their own private joke.  They others stared at them, the girls aware this was a side to Giles neither of them ever thought he had, and so were caught unaware when Jenny finished her story.  
  
“Besides, Will was so obviously missing some . . .  one that I knew he wasn’t thinking about me at all.”  
  
Willow barely squeaked out another question, her eyes darting between the adults and their openly flirtatious behavior.  “He was?”  
  
Jenny laughed, a deep throaty kind of laugh, and she smiled, leaning forward, her voice in a loud conspiratory whisper.  “He was thinking about someone completely unlike me.  I wasn’t even a poor substitute.”  She snuck a glance up at the man in question from beneath her dark eyelashes and spoke again.  “I think he had a blond on his mind.”  
  
Buffy stared at her, unsure of why Jenny was being so obvious about it, when she peeked over at her husband.  His eyes weren’t on Jenny at all, they were staring into her own, a smile playing about his lips.  Before anyone else had a chance to speak, Will opened his mouth.  “I can admit it now, my mind wasn’t on you at all that night.  Too busy thinking about someone I thought was beyond my grasp.  Someone I couldn’t and shouldn’t have been thinking ‘bout at all.”  His eyes held Buffy’s, the rest of the room receding from her awareness and she felt his love reach out to her from across the table.  “Kept wishing it was her sitting with me. . .  Couldn’t get her out of my mind, not for one bloody minute.  And I got my wish.  Got what I wanted.  She’s with me now.”  
  
With that he reached across the table and grabbed for her hand, everything he felt for her blazing in his eyes.  
    



	32. Sunshine in the shady place

_**Thirty-second.  Sunshine in the shady place  
  
  
The soul’s calm sunshine and the heartfelt joy.   
    Alexander Pope, Essay on Man. Epistle iv.   
  
Her angels face,  
As the great eye of heaven, shyned bright,  
And made a sunshine in the shady place.   
    Edmund Spenser, Faerie Queene. Book i. Canto iii. St. 4.  
  
Nights of storm, days of mist, without end;  
Sad days when the sun  
Shone in vain: old griefs and griefs  
Not yet begun.   
    Edward Thomas, The New House   
  
Beneath the sun’s rays our shadow is our comrade;  
When clouds obscure the sun our shadow flees.  
So Fortune’s smiles the fickle crowd pursues,  
But swift is gone whenever she veils her face.   
    Publius Ovidius Naso, Tristia**_  
  
  
  
  
  
One week into her confinement and Buffy was sure she would be climbing the walls if not for Will’s suggestions.  The first one she’d embraced with enthusiasm, anxious to get everything in the house in order.  He’d gotten her a laptop, hooked it up and told her to look at furniture for them and for the baby.  She’d spent two days picking out a new bedroom set, taking his one request, which was _“Nothing too frilly, pet”_   – into consideration.  Unsure about what he wanted, Buffy had waited until he’d come home from school, showing him what she’d picked out.  Will had agreed with her choice, which was a wrought iron frame with high posts and almost oriental-looking dressers.  All nice clean lines.  Buffy was pleasantly surprised to find their tastes were quite similar, their only real divergence on the question of colors.  Thankfully they both agreed on material, and they managed to compromise on the color scheme.    
  
The baby’s room proved even easier, both of them agreeing on a maple set in neutral tan, and classic Winnie the Pooh designs, with soft sky blue walls.  
  
Picking furniture had been relatively easy.  
  
Will’s second suggestion had her pulling her hair and fighting mad.  Not at him, but at the circumstances.  He’d suggested, since she was stuck, and had no intention of ever returning to Sunnydale High, that she start studying for her GED.  Buffy was all for it, until she started looking for schools offering the test.  Unfortunately, the school offering the most classes and tests was – Sunnydale.  The local all girls school was a Catholic school and didn’t offer the GED test until the fall, the next town over only had one high school and offered only one prep class, and the test was next week.  Too soon for her.  
  
The frustration levels weren’t helping and Buffy had to restrain herself from pushing the laptop onto the floor.  “Gggrrrrr.  Not going back there.”  
  
Clem thumped his tail in agreement, rolling his head to look at her with his perpetually sad eyes.  “Really, he promised me I didn’t have to go back there.  So I don’t have to, right?”  
  
“Don’t have to do what, kitten?”  Will came in from the kitchen, loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt.  
  
“The only school with lots of GED classes is Sunnydale.”  She crossed her arms and pouted, looking all of five years old.  
  
 _How much longer do we have to go without?   She knows that drives me round the bend. . ._ “What about UC Sunnydale?”  
  
“Oh!  They offer it there?”  Buffy dropped her arms, looking at him eagerly over the back of the couch.  
  
“Sure do.”  He walked further into the room, intent on kissing his wife senseless.  “And if you do that, you could probably start taking a couple of classes before the baby comes.”  
  
“Really?”  He was within arms reach and Buffy grabbed for him, her fingers curling around his belt loops, pulling him closer.  “Missed you.”  
  
“Missed you, too.”  
  
“They’d let me take classes?  Isn’t it too late for spring semester?”  Buffy surged up on her knees, lifting her face toward his for a kiss.  
  
“UC Sunnydale has quick courses, cram courses during holiday weeks and the summer semester starts May tenth.”  Will leaned down, his arms on either side of her, hands gripping the back of the couch.  He looked at her deeply before dropping a kiss on her forehead.  
  
“How come you know so much about UC Sunnydale’s schedule?”  Buffy pulled back a little after his kiss, her eyes on his.  
  
“Well, that’s another thing we need to talk about.”   She tensed and he shushed her, saying, “Not like that, just that I’ve got some good news, I hope.”  
  
“Spill, husband of mine.”  Her hands tightened briefly around his waist and he ran one of his hands over her arm, down her hand, and gently loosened her grip.  
  
“Been sending out my resume and finally got a couple of responses.  One of them is from UC Sunnydale.”  
  
“What?  Where else?  Oh my god!  Will, that’s great!”  Her face fell a moment and she looked away, biting her lip.  “It’s my fault you have to . . .”  
  
She never finished that statement, because his kiss cut her off.  When he was finished, his thumb caressed her cheek, his voice low and firm, despite the tenor of his words.  “Not your fault.  I’ll admit it’s because of you, but not in the way you’re thinking.”  
  
He paused once more to place another kiss, this one on the tip of her nose.  “I’m wasting my time teaching high school, sweets, and it’s not what I wanted to do anyway.  Was just a means to an end.  Now that I’ve got a reason to leave, I’m taking advantage of it.    Snyder’s been on my arse for, well, since I started, so now I get to stick it to him.”  
  
“So where else did you send your resume to?”  Buffy understood him, what he meant about Snyder and wasting his time.  She also knew he’d like nothing better than to spend most of his time writing and that in the last few nights he’d been writing almost obsessively.  There were a few nights when she’d wake up to find him typing away on the laptop, pecking away at the keyboard, churning out short stories and poetry.  It was a soothing sort of noise for her, the tapping a rhythm she found calming for some strange reason and she found herself wondering what he was writing.  She was dying to ask him, but some residual shyness held her back, afraid he wouldn’t be willing to share that part of himself with her.    
  
“Four different UC schools, Sunnydale, Irvine, San Diego, and Riverside.  I also sent off to Coleman College, Redlands, and San Diego State.”  He took a deep breath, preparing to lay one more surprise on her.  “Sweetheart, the other thing I did is possibly even bigger.  I sent some of my poems off to a publisher.”   
  
“Oh my god . . .  which ones?  Oh, Will. . .”   Complete shock and surprise flooded through her, and yet there was a corresponding sense of inevitability about his actions, both applying for a new job and sending the poems out.  Buffy stared up at him for long minutes, almost afraid to say anything more.  After a long silence, she finally whispered, “When did you send them?”  
  
“Last Wednesday.”  
  
A slight flush covered his high cheekbones and she grinned, her smile threatening to over take her whole face.  The sparkle in her eyes was blinding and Will shook his head, fighting her effect, knowing he couldn’t act on his impulses.  Buffy could barely contain her excitement – this was something he’d wanted for a long time – something he wanted so deeply that he could hardly even bring himself to talk about, afraid of never achieving it.  
  
“Oh, Will. . .”  She breathed out his name, her heart fluttering wildly in her chest.  “This is. . . Which poems did you send?”  
  
He’d shifted, sitting down on the back of the couch, facing her.  Reaching out with his left hand, Will started playing with the ends of her hair.  “Most of the old ones.  Ones you’ve already read, kitten.”  
  
Buffy dropped her head onto his thigh, content to just be near him.  “How soon will you know something?”  
  
His warm fingers were now tracing the contours of her face.  “Could be weeks, if not months.”  
  
Her face fell a little and the pout he both loved and hated appeared.  “Not fair.  They should know how brilliant you are.”  
  
A little laugh escaped him.  “Dunno about brilliant love, I’d settle for anyone who thinks I’m good enough to publish.”  
  
  
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
  
Riley found himself thinking about her at the oddest moments, when he was walking between classes and the few rare times he’d been in the library, but not one single thought was strong enough for him to risk talking to Willow again.  He couldn’t dare go near her house, knowing Buffy’s mother would call the cops the second she caught a glimpse of him.  And yet, curiosity was beginning to grate on him, though and he needed to get some sort of closure on the whole situation, whether it was a message to her or some information about how she was or even where she was.  Something to let him know, to get this niggling feeling of her out of his head.  He still figured the best way to get through to Buffy was through her redheaded best friend, which was why he’d been cautiously following her for the last couple of days – at least during school hours.  
  
Last week, Harmony had overheard Willow talking to Xander and Cordelia, their conversation focused on the missing blond.  Unfortunately, in typical Harmony fashion, she couldn’t remember all the details of the conversation, knowing only one thing for sure, that not too long ago Willow had talked to – and seen – Buffy.  
  
Looking back on it now, Riley knew he’d made a lot of mistakes.  His first reaction to her news had been worry for himself only and how it affected his life, not about Buffy.  What was happening to her hadn’t even crossed his mind, hadn’t even registered with him at all.  Part of him wished he could go back, do it all over again . . . _No, maybe not all of it._   He certainly wished away his current circumstances – on probation with the academy before he’d even stepped foot in the door.  Another part of him wanted to go back and do the last year over completely, maybe even go back to sophomore year, before his family had moved to Sunnydale.  Anything would be better than this.  
  
He wasn’t watching closely, and as he rounded the corner leading to the administration offices, Riley barreled right into Willow, who was talking with Mr. Giles.  
  
Books and bodies went flying and somehow Willow landed squarely on Riley’s chest.  
  
“Ooohfffff.”  Willow raised her head, uncertain of what had just happened, when she realized who’d knocked her down.  “Damn.  You gotta watch where you’re going.”  
  
Giles leaned down to help, his hands cupping Willow’s arms in an effort to lift her off Riley’s prone form.  “Are you all right?”  
  
“Yeah.  Sure, just a little shell-shocked,”  was Riley’s answer, which turned to spluttering when Giles looked at him strangely.  
  
“Actually, I was inquiring about Miss Rosenberg.”  His voice held the strange stilted tone perfected by countless generations of upperclass English nobility, leaving Riley feeling like a huge oaf.  _Which was probably the old man’s intention.  Way to go, Riley.  Grace and carriage._  
  
The two scrabbled about, picking up books, while he sat on the floor, shaking his head.  After getting the ringing to stop, Riley climbed to his feet.  “I’m sorry, Willow.  Didn’t see you at all.”  
  
Willow shrugged him off, unwilling to have any contact with the boy who’d dumped her best friend.  “It’s okay.”  
  
She handed him one of his books and started to walk away, her conversation with the assistant principal resuming seamlessly.  Riley almost called her back, but he heard her mention Buffy, so he thought better of it.  
  
They wandered down the hallway, toward Giles’ office and for once Riley used his head.  Following behind them discretely, Riley listened, straining his ears to catch any stray sounds.  
  
It was easier to pick out Willow’s words, because Giles habitually spoke quickly and low, the cadence of his accent making eavesdropping difficult.  He was able to pick up one word in four and from the gist of things, he understood that Buffy was somewhere in Sunnydale and she wasn’t necessarily feeling all that well.  Beyond that, he couldn’t make sense of anything else.  
  
He nearly jumped out of his skin, when a high-pitched voice startled him.    
  
“Why are you listening to someone else’s conversation?  Don’t you think that’s just a little bit rude, Mr. Finn?”  Careers teacher Anya Jenkins tapped him on the shoulder, freezing him in place.  “Don’t you have something better to do with your time?”  
  
He’d spun around to face her, frantically trying to cover his ass and get her to lower her voice.  So it was kind of understandable then, when he let out a completely unmanly squeak when Giles asked nearly the same question.  “Yes, don’t you have something better. . . ?”  He paused, waiting for Riley to formulate some sort of response.  Once  it was clear none would be forthcoming, Giles smiled at him.  
  
It wasn’t a friendly sort of grin either.  
  
“No?  Then I’ll just have to see to it that you do have something better to occupy both your staggering intellect and your overabundance of time.”  Pointing a finger, down the hallway, Giles motioned Riley forward.  “Detention, Mr. Finn, every day for the next week.  Go see Mr. Casey.”  
  
 _God damn it!  How the hell do I get myself into these stupid situations. . ._  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
“Do you think he was listening?”  
  
Willow’s anxious tones cut through his musings and Giles lifted his eyes from the items strewn about his desk.  “Why, do you think he was?”  
  
“He’s sort of been around all the time lately.  I keep running into him between classes.”  She fiddled with the sleeve of her shirt, rolling and bunching the fabric between nervous fingers.  “He never did stuff like that before, even when he was dating Buffy.”  
  
Giles wrinkled his brow, then peered at her over the top of his glasses.  “I doubt there’s much of anything to his behavior.  If he was that curious about Buffy’s circumstances, don’t you think he would have done this before?”  
  
“I guess.  Sort of.  I dunno, I just get a weird feeling about it, that’s all.”    
  
Directing his attention back down to the catalog in front of him, Giles shrugged off her worries.  “I don’t think it’s anything to be worried about.  Nothing he can do can affect her now, in any case.”  
  
“If you say so.”  Pointing down at one of the pictures, Willow said, “That’s the pattern they’ve picked out.  But I wanna get her something from here too.”  She held up the Disney catalog, her smile bright and infectious.  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
  
She fell asleep long before he did, which was pretty much a given lately.  Will glanced over the side of the laptop, his eyes resting on her sleeping form.  This enforced rest was good for her, but hell on him.  It was ten times worse than before, when they had been reduced to meeting in the cemeteries at night.  At least then he could go  home without her sleeping beside him every night, without the feel of her curled up in his arms, her breath washing over him as he tried to sleep.  Now he didn’t have that respite, but looking over at her golden hair gracing the pillow, Will wouldn’t trade his present for the past at all. Thankfully though, they had less than a week left, only three more days before they saw the doctor again, and he, with any kind of luck, would be releasing her from complete bed rest.  
  
It hadn’t been easy, sleeping next to her warm and willing body every night, without being able to touch her, but Will knew it was for the right reasons.  After their first traumatic night home, when he’d found her almost passed out and bleeding on the bathroom floor, life had settled down into a very quiet routine.  He went off to work, while she spent her days studying for her GED and on-line shopping.  Their nights, however, were exercises in frustration and anticipation and every night Will spent on the knife’s edge.  He refused to wank off in the bed beside her, thinking it was more torture than he could stand, instead using the bathroom.  Buffy was blissfully ignorant of his dilemma, and he intended to keep it that way.  
  
Instead, he had started pouring out his frustration and temporarily thwarted passion into his writing – and the results were astounding.  Every line, every thought was inspired by her and he’d never been so productive, not even when he was younger and his hormones were raging.  He’d written more than a dozen poems, finished two short stories and was working on the third, and had ideas for at least another two.  Will shook his head.  _Hemingway and Keats had their distractions, I’ve got mine.  Not that I’m anywhere near as good as either one of them, doesn’t mean I can’t dream._  
  
Buffy shifted in her sleep, a soft whimper of pain escaping from her.  Her leg twitched, the muscles jumping on their own and Will knew the spasms were the source of her pain.  Before the twitching worsened, Buffy rolled over, opened her eyes a fraction and groaned.    
  
He was closing the document, shutting down all the windows and turning the laptop off for the night when her pain filled voice caught his attention.  
  
“Will?”  
  
“Yeah, baby?”  
  
“Help? Ow. . .”   Buffy tried flexing her toes, hoping to get the twinges to ease.  When that didn’t work she tried rolling back onto her side, straightening her legs out from that position.  
  
Will shut the laptop, getting off the bed smoothly.  “Need anything?”  
  
“No.  Just help me up, please?”  
  
He was at her side instantly, easing her up off the bed.  “What are you doing, sweets?”  
  
“Need to walk.”  
  
“Are you sure?  Doc said. . .”  
  
“I know what the doctor said.  I called today to confirm the appointment for Thursday and asked them about the leg cramps at the same time.”  Her jaw was clenched and he could feel the tension thrumming through her.  
  
This was the third night in a row, maybe the fifth time in the last week she’d woken up like this.  He was beginning to get a little concerned.  The last thing they needed was another complication.  “So what did he say?”  
  
“Do whatever gets rid of them.  And eat more bananas.”  Buffy shuffled across the floor, holding onto Will’s hands as he walked backwards in front of her.  “Ouchies.  I’ll be really happy when all this is over.”  
  
“Being pregnant?”  
  
“No.  Being stuck inside and in bed.  This is driving me crazy.  Pretty soon you’ll have psycho Buffy on your hands.”  
  
Will rolled his eyes and with a hint of laughter in his voice, teased her with, “An’ how will I know her from every day Buffy?”  
  
She raised an eyebrow at him.  “Haha.  Aren’t you funny.”  
  
“You love me anyway.”  
  
“Ah huh.  Remind me again of the reasons why.”  
  
  
**************************************************************  
  
  
The doctor looked up from the ultrasound monitor, a huge grin splitting his face.  “Everything is fine.  The minor placental tear has repaired itself, all the readings are fine, baby’s heartbeat is fine.  Aside from the leg cramps, you’re feeling better, right?”  
  
At her vigorous head nodding, the doctor smiled at both of them.  “So I guess you’ll be happy to hear what I have to say?”  
  
“Depends on what you’re going to tell us.  Am I all sprung Buffy?  Can I go shopping now?  Go for a walk?  Something?”  Her look of hopeful anticipation was hard to ignore and he caught at glimpse of the grip she had on her husband’s hand, both sets of knuckles white.    
  
Fond of overly dramatic pauses, the doctor leaned down to look at the monitor again, focusing on the placenta.  It really was all healed, the slight tear hadn’t been all that serious, but he’d erred on the side of caution.  One more quick look at their faces, especially hers, and the doctor relented.  She was young, and with her overly protective mate at her side, she’d be fine.    
  
“The prisoner is released.  You are now free to leave the bed and the house.”  
  
The squeal coming from the petite blond was so full of glee and sheer happiness it rivaled that of a group of hyperactive three year olds. He winced slightly as it echoed through the room, then realized he was still dealing with a very young girl.  She was much changed from the wary and very scared teen who’d first appeared in his office a couple of months ago, who’d broken down completely on her second visit.  The whole sad story had come tumbling out of her, and John Merrick had felt a bit of fatherly concern for the poor girl.  She’d been honest with him too, telling him all about the situation with Riley Finn and on the following visit, about the growing relationship she was embarking on with an older man.  
  
Dr. Merrick watched as her new husband –  the older man -- wrapped her in his arms, dropping happy kisses on her face.  _No sense torturing them both . . ._  
  
“Don’t you want to hear my other good news?”  The couple broke apart, though they kept their arms entwined.  The look of expectation on Will’s face was full of frustrated lust and he took pity on him.  _Man hadn’t been married a week and he was told hands off. . . poor guy._ Trying for teasing seriousness, he said, “You can also resume your regularly scheduled sex life, although I’d be careful about anything too acrobatic or rigorous.  And if there’s any pain or spotting after any encounter, call me immediately.”  
  
Buffy was too happy to be embarrassed, even when Will growled happily into her ear, his  nose nuzzling her hair.  _Oh thank god . . .  no more Will sneaking off to the bathroom . . .  no more frustration. . ._ She giggled when Dr. Merrick’s words really registered and ended up blushing anyway when Will nipped at her neck.  
  
Taking pity on the newlyweds, Dr. Merrick shooed the pair out of his office.  “Go.  No more crisis, and I’ll see you both in a month.  Make sure you schedule an appointment before you go.”  
  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
  
They held hands the whole time they were booking next month’s appointment, neither willing to let go.  Will was rapidly calculating distances and time in his head, trying to figure out which would be the quickest way back home.  Buffy kept bumping into Will’s side, her heavy breasts brushing against his arm or his back as she leaned closer into him.  At one point he leaned over, whispered wickedly in her ear and watched the dark red blush bloom on her features.  She’d slapped him gently then, afraid to say anything in response to his remark.  
  
“If you don’t stop that, kitten, I’m gonna shag you senseless right here.”  
  
 _How the hell am I supposed to . . . gah.  He’s just such a meanie . . ._ Buffy moved a bit away, leaving only their hands linked together and gave him a pout.    
 _  
That’s it.  I’m done._ Will growled out something to the receptionist, then tugged on Buffy’s hand, almost pulling her out of the office. _Gotta have her now._  
  
The ride home was pure torture, with Buffy sitting next to him, her hands demurely in her lap.  Once out of the office they’d split apart, almost as if they were both afraid to touch for fear once started they couldn’t stop.  Will glanced over at her, noting the dejected set to her shoulders and cursed himself for a fool.   
  
“Sweetheart, c’mere.”  He held out his hand to her, running it awkwardly up and down her arm.  Buffy looked at him and he could just make out the shimmer of unshed tears in her eyes.  “What’s wrong?”  
  
“I’m sorry.  I just missed feeling you, being able to touch you and I didn’t . . . I wasn’t thinking.”  She sighed, then leaned closer to him.  “And I know what you were doing in the bathroom too, so  . . . ”  
  
 _Oh fucking hell._    
  
He looked at her then, trying to compose his thoughts.  _On the one hand . . .  oh bugger it._   “Didn’t want to hurt you, baby.”  
  
A soft, sad giggle broke the silence of the big DeSoto.  “You didn’t, Will.  I know why and I wasn’t upset. . . I just feel really guilty, because it’s all my fault.”  
  
It was a good thing they were stopped at a light, because Will’s foot hit the brake reflexively, his whole upper body swivelling around to look at her.  “What?!”  
  
The sunlight hit her, blinding him for a minute so that he couldn’t clearly see her eyes, but he reached for her hand, pulling her close.  “Buffy, don’t you understand?  I’d spend the rest of . . . if that’s what we had to do to keep you and the baby safe for the next four months, I’d gladly do it.  You are both more important to me than just sex.”    
  
Some car behind them honked the horn and Will just hit the flashers, putting the car into park.   He held Buffy close, her head on his shoulder and he could feel tears seeping into his shirt.   “Sweetheart, you are my life, my love, and my family.  I’m not gonna jeopardize either of you for any reason.”  
  
“Well then, don’t you think you should get us home, because sitting here in the middle of the street isn’t so good for any of us.”    
  
“Right.”  Will brushed a kiss across her lips, tasting the tears she’d wiped off on his shirt, then cupped her face in his hands.  “I love you.”  
  
“I love you, too.”  Buffy put her hand over his, then squeezed lightly.  “Can we go home now, so I can show you just how much?”  
  
A crooked smile played across his face.  “Sure thing, sweetheart.”  
  
He smoothly turned back to the steering wheel, hit the flashers and gunned the engine, heading them toward home.  
  
  
  


 


	33. Words that bring the storm

_**Thirty-third.  Words that bring the storm  
  
Ye that follow the vision  
Of the world’s weal afar,  
Have ye met with derision  
And the red laugh of war?  
Yet the thunder shall not hurt you  
Nor the battle storms dismay;  
Tho’ the sun in heaven desert you  
Love will find out the way.  
    Alfred Noyes, Love will find out the Way.  
  
Without, the frost, the blinding snow,  
The storm-wind’s moody madness—  
Within, the firelight’s ruddy glow,  
And childhood’s nest of gladness.  
The magic words shall hold thee fast:  
Thou shalt not heed the raving blast.  
    Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking-Glass, epigraph  
  
 It is the stillest words that bring on the storm.   
Thoughts that come on doves’ feet guide the world.   
     Friedrich Nietzsche, Sämtliche Werke: Kritische Studienausgabe, vol. 4 **_  
  
  
  
                      
“Will, put me down.”  
  
The only answer she got was a negative shake, keys rattling in time to the head bobbing of her insane husband.  
  
“C’mon, Will, put me down.”  A soft whine crept into her voice, but even then he didn’t relent.  “I am allowed to walk now.”  
  
The keys, which had been hanging from his mouth dropped into her lap and the only answer she got was, “Unlock the door, kitten.”  
  
“Put me down first.”  
  
“Nope.  Gonna do this right, this time.”  He nudged her with his shoulder.  “Open the door.”  
  
“This is crazy, you know that?”  Buffy rolled her eyes and picked up the keys.  
  
Will smiled down at her, his eyes sparkling with humor.  “No, this is tradition.  Didn’t do it the first time, an’ look what happened.  Not taking any more chances.”  
  
Buffy slid the key into the lock, then pushed open the door.  “I still say it’s crazy.”  
  
“Trust me, Buffy, this is the right thing to do.”  
  
He made a big deal of stepping over the threshold, a wide grin gracing his features.  “Welcome home, wife.”  
  
Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck, resting her forehead against his lips.  “You are crazy, Will.  That’s probably why I love you so much.”  
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
  
“She is insane, you know that, don’t you?”  Cordelia checked the shine of her nail polish, idly wondering whether she should go for a manicure or not.  She glanced up to see Xander staring at her.  “What?  Oh, please, like you didn’t know?  Willow’s lost her mind.”  
  
When Xander didn’t respond to most of her – admittedly rhetorical – questions, Cordelia leaned closer to his face and snapped her fingers.  “Xander, pay attention.  There’s no way Riley is following her.”  
  
“Cordy?”  
  
“What now?”  She raised a regal eyebrow, then swivelled around in her chair when Xander merely pointed to a spot behind her.  She stared, her eyes not believing what she was seeing.  Willow was walking toward them, completely unaware Riley Finn was dogging her steps, about ten paces behind her.  
  
“Oh my god.  I can’t believe it.  What the hell?”  
  
Cordelia whirled around, facing Xander once more.  “Why is he doing that?  Do you think she’s right about the other stuff?”  
  
“Could be.  Which means we gotta be really careful.”  
  
Without another word to her boyfriend, Cordelia got up and stalked to where Willow had stopped to talk to Jonathan Levinson, Riley hovering just out of Willow’s line of sight.  Barely sparing the boy a glance, Cordelia said, “Beat it, short stuff.  C’mon, Willow, we have to leave _now_.”  
  
Tugging a somewhat reluctant Willow behind her, Cordelia swept passed Xander and with a slight nod in his direction, the two girls left the cafeteria.  Xander stood up, his eyes on the panic-stricken face of Riley.  Just as the other boy approached his table, clearly following the two girls, Xander moved, blocking his path to the door.  Folding his arms across his chest, Xander stood his ground, waiting for Riley to back down.  
  
It took him a little while, but he did, eventually turn away.  Neither of them had spoken, the silent battle of wills taking place without any anger, though Riley had the sinking suspicion that Xander wouldn’t hesitate to initiate another fight.  He couldn’t afford another mark against him – something Xander was more than aware of, using it to his advantage.  With a somewhat beaten expression, Riley shook his head and turned away, completely missing the smug look on Xander’s face.  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
Once across the threshold, Will dropped the supporting arm beneath Buffy’s hips, allowing her feet to hit the floor.  At the same moment his lips descended on hers, his kiss hard and hungry.  
  
Hands settled at her waist, holding her close.  Blunt teeth nibbled at her lips, his tongue begging for entrance into her mouth.  Warm fingers played with his curls, then dropped down to undo his tie, slide past buttoned barriers.  
  
“Need you.”  His voice was a low rumble against her neck, wringing soft shivers from her taut nerves.  
  
“What about work?”  Feather light touches, soft knuckles pressing, scraping across his skin.  Will shrugged out of his duster, letting the black leather pool around their feet.  
  
Shaky hands burrowed under the fall of her hair, sliding down between layers of fabric, peeling away her coat.  
  
“Took the afternoon.  ‘M done.”  
  
“Oh.”   The almost silent hiss of cotton sliding from beneath his belted waist countered her breathy whisper.  “Will?”  Snick and pop of metal against leather, the thud of a heavy coat falling to the floor, were the only real sounds in the house.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
Skin, soft, silky, golden warming his hands, her breath wafting over his collar.  
  
Nip of small teeth tugging on his earlobe.  “Upstairs. . .”  
  
“Can’t wait.”  The slow fall of his trousers. . .   Will’s fingers questing beneath elasticized lace, her small hand palming the head of his weeping cock.  “Oh, baby, need you too much.”  
  
High-pitched whimpers countered his low groans while his fingers slid between her slick folds.  “God I missed . . . need you . . .”  
  
Tongues meshed, teeth nipped and nuzzled, mouths devouring each other.  Buffy slipped her shoes off and their height difference increased, Will’s fingers inside her core lifting her back up to her toes.  “So wet, baby. . . So damn wet.”  
  
Her hand stroked over his hip, sliding around to cup his buttocks.  His cock bucked against the curve of her gravid belly, smearing pre-cum on her skin.  “Want you inside me . . .  please, now . . .”  
  
Dropping his head down onto her shoulder, Will rasped out something, one hand fumbling for the clasp of her bra, anxious to feel the weight of her breasts in his hands.  
  
Stretchy lace buckled and gave under his fingers, falling down between them.  Pebble hard nipples poked into his skin and Will lifted the bra, tossing it away.  Buffy stepped back, lifting her feet from the pants pooled around her ankles.  Will followed, then glanced down at her barely suppressed giggle.  He was naked, save for the shoes and socks on his feet and Buffy couldn’t stop the gurgles of mirth from erupting.    
  
“Oh, Will, that’s sooo sexy.”  
  
He growled at her, then dropped to his knees to take off the shoes and socks, his cock still hard and weeping for her.  “I’ll show you sexy, little girl.”  
  
Her eyes shone with laughter, though her words were serious.  “You do, Will, every day. . . Don’t you know . . .  god, you are so. . .”  
  
His head lifted, a piercing light in his indigo eyes.  “No more than you, baby.  All you have to do is look at me and I’m gone.”  
  
Buffy’s voice dropped to a bare whisper, all laughter gone.  “I’m looking now. . .”  
  
Will surged to his feet, his eyes sweeping over her naked form.  “So am I . . .”  
  
His hand circled her hip, pulling her close.   “Wanna see you. . . watch your face when I slide into you.”  
  
Backing her into the living room, Will decided he was going to fulfill his ongoing fantasy of seeing her splayed out naked against the black leather couch.  Plucking the back cushions off and tossing them to the floor, he gently pushed her down so that her head was against the armrest.    
  
“My god, baby. . . You are gorgeous.”  He stopped still, watching the breath lift her breasts, the sheen of the moisture he’d left on her belly, the pink folds of her sex teasing him, laid out, his for the taking against the backdrop of black leather.    
  
“Will.. . . please . . .” Her hand slid down, almost innocently caressing her own skin, following the hills of her breast, tweaking her dark pink nipple, resting over her distended belly.    
  
Nostrils flared, jaw clenching, Will fought his own arousal, wanting to watch her, basking in the delayed gratification.  _This is torture, but oh dear god, it’s so fucking delicious . . ._  
  
“Sweetheart. . . slide those fingers down, just a bit . . . yeah . . . touch yourself. . .” It was more than a plea, it was nearly a prayer and just the sight of it, her fingers parting her pussy for him was enough to nearly drive him to his knees.  ‘Oh yeah, baby, that’s it. . .”  
  
He fisted his cock, desperate for friction.  Buffy bit her lip, fighting to keep herself from begging him, fingering the hard button of her clit.  Her hips lifted, an offering to him and Will’s self control shattered.  He surged forward, dropping down between her opened thighs, his mouth latching on, sucking her nipple into his needy mouth.    
  
“Oh Will, need you . . .”   Buffy found his cock, their hands circling around the base together, guiding him inside.    
  
Rising to his knees, Will changed his angle,  to watch his cock thrust into her pussy.  “God, baby . . . this is. . . so fuckin’ tight. . . feel what you do. . .”  
  
It had been too long, two whole bloody weeks without her and he could barely hold his need back.  Too soon he was feeling his balls draw up, the rush filling his head, a roaring in his ears . . .   Will dropped back down, holding himself still, afraid to come too soon for her, needing to make it good.   His cheek brushed against hers and he felt the telltale trace of tears.  “Buffy?”  
  
“Oh god, I missed you sooo much.  Please, Will, come . . . I need to feel you come with me.  Missed you, missed you. . . now, please.”  Her hips lifted, inner walls clenching around him and he realized they were both holding back.   
  
“Buffy. . .    Buffy . . .  love. . .”   His lips met hers, arms sliding under her, lifting her up and he settled back on his haunches, thrusting up into her.  Fingernails dug into his biceps,  as his cock hit the spongy, over sensitive spot inside her.  His name erupted from her throat, pushed out by the force of his churning hips.  Inner walls fluttered, strangling his cock and Will growled, lunged one more time up into her and spent himself, pulsing his release into her welcoming depths.  
  
Collapsing onto his back, Will held onto his wife, letting her body rest on his.    
   
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
They went out to dinner in celebration, both of them figuring it was worth the risk just to get out of the house.  Picking a restaurant a couple of towns away, Will was fairly certain they’d be safe.  It was early, just going on five and the only other patrons weren’t paying them the least bit of attention.  
  
Dinner had been great and they’d taken a further chance by walking along the waterfront pier, laughing and holding hands.  The gamble had paid off, though, because they ran into not a single person either of them knew.  
  
It was after ten, when they were finally heading home, that Buffy started craving ice cream.  Will had laughed at her, remarking, “I asked you not half an hour ago, while we were standing in front of the ice cream place.”  
  
“I didn’t want it then.  Besides, I want Phish Food.”  
  
Spotting the open grocery store, Will pulled into the parking lot.  “All right, sweetheart.  You comin’ in?”  
  
“Yup.”  
  
Blinking at the bright fluorescent lights, the two headed inside.  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
Joyce was out of coffee – and milk – and truth be told, needed to get out of the too silent house.  Instead of heading toward the huge supermarket, she opted for the smaller one about a mile away.  _Less crowds. . . less chance of bumping into anyone I know. . ._  
  
She was standing in the coffee aisle, when two people walking by caught her attention.  _That looked just like Buffy . . ._ Joyce shook her head at the fanciful thought.  Selecting the coffee, Joyce dumped it into the basket and moved toward the dairy aisle.  
  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
  
She made a beeline straight for the frozen foods, her eyes lighting up at the selection, enough so that Will laughed out loud.  Buffy opened the door holding the Ben & Jerry’s, nearly diving in, going through the pints, searching for the one she wanted, whining when she couldn’t find it.  “Will, gimme a hand, please?”  
  
“I’m just going to get hot chocolate mix.”  
  
“Ooooh.  Okay.  Don’t forget the mini-marshmallows.”  
  
“Gotcha.”  
  
Will handed her the basket, then headed away.  There was a blond woman wandering the aisles and he didn’t think anything of it, or her, until he walked past and recognized her.  
  
 _Oh bloody. . . shite. . . no.   Not this. . .  
_  
Instead of heading toward his destination, Will circled around, almost sprinting for the spot he’d left Buffy in, hoping he reached her before her mother realized who he was.  
 _  
Have to get her out of here . . . have to . . ._  
  
He made it around the corners, taking them almost at a run, his brain scrambling for a reason to get Buffy out of here without having her ask too many questions.  Thankfully she was still going through the display, and it would be hard for anyone to recognize her from that view, even her mother.  Will was watching the aisle and he could feel his heart thumping away in his chest, fear making the sound loud in his ears.  Gasping for air, he bent over, his eyes watching, waiting for disaster to fall.  There was no good reason he could come up with, nothing came into his head at all, and he was beginning to think the only way he could get her out of there was to bodily pick her up and carry her.  She might protest, but in the long run she’d forgive him for it.  
  
Just about to turn around and scoop her up, Will halted at the sound of footsteps behind them.  He groaned, instinctively knowing that his luck had just run out.  Pivoting around on one foot, he turned around to see Buffy’s mother looking through the displays, ignoring the young couple.  Will stepped around, blocking Buffy’s form and figured he could brazen it out, as long as Buffy kept quiet.    
  
Rocking forward on the balls of his feet, Will tried to figure out how to keep the two women apart.  At the moment, neither one of them was aware of the other, though that could change at any second.  

  
 _Leave . . . c’mon, ya blasted bitch, just go. . . Go . . .  don’t see us . . ._  
  
Luck wasn’t with him, because Joyce glanced up in his direction and a slight smile creased her face.  “Mr. Stevenson?  Is that you?”  
  
 _Fuck . . .  fuck . . .  fuck . . .  fuck._  
  
“Yeah.  I’m sorry I don’t recognize you.  You are?”  He tried for the lie, putting enough confusion into his tone to indicate that he knew he’d seen her, just couldn’t put a name to a face.  
  
She stared at him for a moment, then said quietly, “I’m Joyce Summers, Buffy’s mother.”  
  
“Oh.”  He was at a complete loss.  Will had absolutely no idea what to say or how to act.  It was at that precise moment everything fell to pieces.  Buffy stood up, completely unaware of the tension around her and the cause of it, exclaiming loudly.  “Oohhhh!  Look!  I got the last pint.  Go me!”  
  
He’d never seen such a play of emotions on one person’s face before.  Joy, relief, fear, anger, love, and utter confusion flitted across his mother-in-law’s features.  Will imagined  his face wasn’t much better.    
  
Buffy looked past Will’s shoulder to see her mother standing there, staring at the pair of them.  
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
  
The last person in the world she’d expected to see when she stood up was her mother.  Will was blocking her, standing between them, every muscle in his body tense with anticipation.  Buffy held the ice cream pint in her hand, squeezing it rhythmically and she unconsciously leaned closer to Will.  Her mind was blank, no single clear thought in her head at all.  
  
“Will?”  She whispered low, her hand seeking his and he caught her fingers between his, pressing them in support.    
  
“Right here, baby.”  
  
Buffy glanced up at him, their eyes meeting.  “Don’t leave me.  No matter what happens.”  
  
“Not gonna, baby.  I’m staying right here.”  
  
“Buffy?”  Her mother’s voice broke into their sotto-voce conversation, drawing their combined attention to where she was standing.  
  
“Mom.”  Part of her wasn’t sure how to behave – and another side of her was angry.  Very angry.  The last time she’d seen her mother, Joyce had been screaming at her and had just slapped her, very nearly throwing her out of the house.  The words her mother had flung at her had hurt causing more than one crying jag.  And now here she was, just standing there, staring at the two of them.  
  
“I. . . How are you?”  Joyce kept staring, her eyes riveted, unblinking, on her only child.  It almost seemed she were afraid to blink, for fear the sight in front of her would fade like some horrible mirage.  
  
 _I’m gone for weeks . . .  and all she can ask me is ‘how are you?’  What the hell is that . . .  Doesn’t she have anything else to say?  Gah.  I really don’t want to do this now . . .  to explain everything to . . . I don’t even know if I wanna talk to her._  
  
“Okay.  You?”  It was nearly impossible to miss the frost in her tone, though Buffy did nothing to soften it.  And she knew, without having to ask, she had Will’s complete support, so even if her mother didn’t approve, she knew everything was going to be okay.    
  
“I’ve been okay.”  She paused, visibly searching for something to say to her daughter.  “Are you sure you’re okay?”  
  
Despite the wince, neither of the two blondes took pity on the woman nor gave her anything remotely resembling a response.  _Gee, Mom, how lame a question is that?  I’m sure I’m okay . . ._  
  
“Yeah.  I’m sure.”    
  
Will leaned over to take the ice cream from her hands, catching her hand flexing around the softening stuff out of the corner of his eye.  “Gimme that.”  
  
Buffy stared down at it blankly, then handed it off, silently watching him for the moment ignoring the unwanted presence of her mother at the end of the aisle.   “Sorry.”  
  
“It’s all right, sweetheart.”  
  
His voice was low, but not low enough, because her mother flinched, then flashed a look neither one of them could interpret.    
  
“Sweetheart?”  Joyce shook her head, then focused on the pair of them again.  “Buffy, where have you been?  What’s going on?  How come . . .  how come you haven’t called me?”  
  
A deep sigh wafted from Buffy, and he could almost hear the mental battle she was currently engaged in, and the grinding of her teeth as she fought the words her brain wanted to scream.  “Really not the time or the place to do this, Mom.”  
  
The tone, and Buffy’s comments, seemed to set off Joyce’s temper.  “What do you mean, now isn’t the time?  I’ve . . . I haven’t seen you or heard from you, young lady, in more than two months and **_now_** I’m supposed to wait?  I don’t think so.  Too bad this isn’t to your liking.  We’re going to talk.  _**Now**_.”  
  
Buffy stiffened beside him, and Will braced himself, trying to keep calm, because the last thing she needed right now was for him to lose his temper, jump in and say something colossally stupid.  But it was there, his temper was just about to hit boiling, and he wasn’t going to be able to get a hold on it if Joyce kept going.  
  
“Mom.  Lower your voice.  I so don’t want this all over the place.”    
  
Joyce bristle visibly, lines of tension and anger bracketing her mouth.  She had a pinched look about her features as if she were swallowing something foul.  “Fine, I’ll lower my voice.   But I expect some explanations.”  
  
Buffy glanced at Will, then tugged on the hand clasped with hers.  She raised an eyebrow, communicating silently and he shook his head negatively.  
  
“Neutral ground, pet.”  Was all the comment he made, the only concession he was going to make for Joyce.  He didn’t want to have this out in a public venue, nor was he willing to do this at either house.  
  
“Come on, Mom, let’s go.”  Buffy motioned her mother toward the exit, heading in that direction without a backward look.  
  
Will followed behind, stopping only to grab plastic spoons and pay for their items.


	34. Not heed the raving blast

_**Thirty-fourth.  Not heed the raving blast  
  
Without, the frost, the blinding snow,  
The storm-wind’s moody madness –  
Within, the firelight’s ruddy glow,  
And childhood’s nest of gladness.  
The magic words shall hold thee fast;  
Thou shall not heed the raving blast.  
    Lewis Carroll, Through the Looking Glass  
  
Our sulky, sullen dame,  
Gathering her brows like gathering storm,  
Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.  
    Robert Burns, Tam O’Shanter  
  
Why now, blow wind, swell billow and swim bark!  
The storm is up, and all is on the hazard.  
    Julius Caesar, act v, scene i**_  
  
  
  
Joyce emerged from the unnaturally illuminated store into darkness.  Glancing around, she scanned the almost deserted parking lot looking for her daughter suddenly afraid she’d disappeared again.  An old black sedan idled nearby, and it took her more than a few minutes to realize it was occupied by her daughter and her companion.  
  
 _Companion . . . just what is my daughter doing with her English teacher at this hour of night?  And I did not hear him call her sweetheart . . . just one more question I have for my daughter._  
  
The sedan pulled up and Buffy rolled down her window.  “Follow us.”  
  
“Buffy . . . I . . .” Joyce started to speak, but Buffy cut her off.  
  
“Look, Mom, you’re the one that wanted to talk.  So, we’ll make with the conversation.  Just not here.”  
  
“Fine.”  Shouldering her purse, Joyce headed for her car.  
  
Buffy watched her mother go, a strange look on her face. Will waited until Joyce got into her car then gunned the engine.  
  
“Better eat that now, kitten, before it melts.”  
  
“Not sure I want it anymore.”  Despite her words, Buffy tore off the protective seal then licked the top.  “Did you buy spoons?”  
  
“In the bag.”  He watched the rearview mirror as Joyce pulled up behind him. He knew, without looking that Buffy was going to eat the ice cream.  It hadn’t taken him long to learn when Buffy had a craving, nothing stood in her way.    
  
“So where are we going?”  
  
“Not entirely certain yet.  You’re okay with not doing this at home, right?”  He cut a sideways look at her, waiting for her response.  
  
“Very sure.”  Digging into the chocolate ice cream, Buffy thought about various spots in Sunnydale that might be deserted at eleven o’clock at night, during the week.  “Really trying to avoid getting stuck talking all night.”  
  
“I agree, kitten.”  He drove a bit longer, then, as they passed the Richard T. Wilkins grade school, he had an idea.  “How about the park?”  
  
She shrugged, since her mouth was full of chocolate caramel marshmallow goodness.  
  
Five minutes later he pulled into the deserted parking lot, Joyce’s car right behind him.  “You ready for this?”  
  
Another shrug, followed up by a grimace.  “Not really, but there’s no time like now.”  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
The short drive to the park wasn’t nearly enough time to calm her temper.  If anything it had given her time to think, time to stew over all the things that had been swimming in her head for the last few months without any venue to let out her frustration.  She’d spent months wondering where her daughter was and now, faced with her presence all Joyce could do was seethe with barely suppressed anger.  
  
 _Why the hell is she with her English teacher?  And what else is going on?  Where has she been?  
_  
Joyce got out of the car before the engine had completely shut down, her eyes on the big black sedan next to her.  Adrenaline raced through her, and she could feel herself bracing for an argument.  She watched in amazement as Will emerged from the car first, then moved around it, closer to her.  He looked like he was going to say something then checked himself, but with his hand on the door, he turned to face her.  
  
“May not mean anything to you, but she’s had a rough couple of weeks.  Had a scare with the baby and she almost lost it.  So if you’re thinking of. . . jus’ go easy on her, yeah?”  He ran his hands through his hair, glancing down at his feet, unwilling to look her in the eyes.  A deep sigh broke from him and Will opened the door.  
  
He leaned in to help Buffy up, and he laughed a bit when she handed him the empty pint first.  “What am I supposed to do with this?”  
  
“Throw it out?”  Buffy grabbed his free hand and used it as support to help herself out of the car.    
  
Buffy leaned against him for a moment, flexing one of her legs.  On her face was a slight grimace of pain and Will knew immediately what the problem was.  “Walk it off, kitten.”  
  
“Yeah, yeah. . . I’m walking, see?”  She moved away from him, limping slightly, one hand trailing along the side of the car.  
 _  
Sweetheart. . . kitten. . .   Just what is going on here?_ “Buffy?  What’s going on?”  She couldn’t keep the confused anger from her tone, but then Joyce was beyond caring what her daughter read into her comments.  
  
Buffy stopped at the trunk, leaning against the solid ebony steel.  Joyce was aware of the man standing behind her, though she chose, at that moment to ignore his presence.  Instead she focused on the figure of her daughter, pregnant belly looking very prominent.  She ran a hand over her belly, then let loose a hearty burp, followed by a small chuckle.  “Sorry.”  
  
Her name sounded on the air again, and Buffy finally turned to look at her mother.  “What, Mom?”  
  
“Care to tell me what’s going on?”  Joyce’s expression had changed somewhat, though it was clear the overriding emotion she still felt was anger.  
  
“What is it you’re dying to know?”  As soon as she asked, Buffy knew it was the wrong question, even though there was nothing she could do to take it back.  
  
“What are you doing with your English teacher?  Is that where you’ve been for the last few months? Have you been living with him?”    
  
It was hard not to miss the belligerent tone in her mother’s voice and Buffy flinched.  She stared off into the darkness, trying to come up with answers that wouldn’t set off her mother’s temper.  _Okay, so not wanting to do this. . ._  
  
“Look, Mom, I,” and she was at a loss.  Buffy had absolutely no idea what to say.  Not a clue, nothing at all.  She threw a look that clearly said **_help me_** at Will, who stared back at her.  He had no answer for her either, because what he wanted to say to her mother shouldn’t be said in front of Buffy.  
  
She took another deep breath and instead of trying to think, she just let the words out.  “Yeah, Mom, I’ve been living with Will, for about a month now.  He saved me, Mom, without him I’d still be wandering the streets.”  Buffy looked down at her hand splayed over her belly, then glanced up at Will.  “I had nowhere else to go. . .”  
  
“Nowhere else to go?  You should have come home!”    
  
Buffy was shaking her head.  “No I couldn’t. . . I had _nowhere_. . . and, Will – Will let me stay with him.”  
  
Absolute silence greeted her statement.  Joyce stared at her for a moment, opened her mouth then closed it.  “So it’s all innocent?  You’re telling me you’ve been staying with this man and . . . Buffy I’m not stupid.  Have you been lying all along?  Is this even Riley’s baby?”  
  
“What?!  Is that what you . . .  Mom, that’s just sick.”  
  
“No, it’s not sick.  And you can’t stand there and tell me nothing is going on between you two, because it’s written all over your face.  And he called you sweetheart and kitten . . . . and. . .”   Joyce put such a vicious sneer to those two nicknames that Buffy almost threw up.    
  
Her words jumbled together and Buffy fought not to scream at her mother.  “I’m not gonna lie to you, Mom, not because you deserve the truth or anything, coz you pretty much threw me out of the house, but because Will deserves the truth.  Yeah, Mom, there’s more than just _something_ going on between us, but that’s between us.  It’s complicated and not always easy, but it’s real.  I _love_ him.  And he loves me.  And as much as I wish otherwise, this baby doesn’t have his DNA.  Which pretty much sucks the big one, because Riley?  His DNA sucks.”  
  
Joyce whirled around to look at Will, anger pinching her features.  “You took advantage of an underage girl in a desperate situation.”  
  
“He so did not.  I didn’t go to him until the day before my birthday.  I was living . . . I was hiding out on the streets, sleeping in different places.”    
  
“You expect me to believe you?  Please . . . I can’t believe a word you say.  You lied to me and then you run away.  How do you expect me to trust you?”  
  
“You _trust_ me?  That’s just really great, Mom.  How about all those times . . .”   Buffy took a deep breath and tried to calm down.  She could feel her heart racing, could feel her lungs contracting and her face getting redder and redder and she knew her blood pressure was going through the roof and she suddenly realized this was not good for her or the baby.  “I can’t do this.  I need to sit down.”  
  
Will was at her side instantly, reaching for her.  “C’mon, kitten, sit down.”  
  
He guided her back to the passenger’s side, easing her into the seat.  “You okay?”  
  
She shook her head.  “I dunno.  I think I need to just rest for a minute.”  
  
His mother-in-law approached the vehicle, concern warring with the anger now.  “Stay there, sweetheart.  Don’t get up.”  
  
Joyce didn’t get any closer.  Buffy watched while Will turned around to confront her mother.  “I told you she’d been having a rough time, but I guess that didn’t register with you, did it?”  
  
She started to say something and he waved her off, intent on having his say.  He’d let Buffy take the lead, but now he was damned good and ready to give her a piece of his mind.  Before he could speak, though, Joyce’s voice was sounding out again.  
  
“Just how long has there been something going on between you two?”  She folded her arms over her chest, watching him closely.  “How long have you been using my daughter?”  
  
“I’m not using her, an’ like Buffy said, it’s . . . Look, while you were badgering Red, I was out looking for her every bloody night.  She wasn’t with Rosenberg, no one knew where the hell she was, an’ you had your head up your. . . in the sand.”  Will ran a hand through his hair, dislodging his curls.  
  
Joyce looked momentarily taken aback.  She’d honestly thought Buffy was with Willow.  “She’s done it before.  Gone to Willow’s and had her friend lie about where she was.”  
  
Will started to say something, but Joyce cut him off again, this time going for the jugular.  “It doesn’t matter.   You can’t prove she wasn’t with you, which means whatever line you fed her to get her to stay with you isn’t going to work any longer.  She was underage and your student.  That makes you a pedophile.  And I’m going to make sure you lose your job.”  
  
“No!  Mom, it wasn’t like that at all.  You can’t do that!  It’s a lie!”  Buffy screamed at her mother, unwilling to let those comments go.  
  
“Buffy, you’re a fool.  He doesn’t love you, and he’s certainly not taking care of you because he’s a good person.  He wants one thing from you and when you can’t have sex with him, he’ll dump you.”  Joyce made a face then continued.  “He’s not Prince Charming come to rescue you.  Life isn’t like that.”  
  
Neither one of the other two could believe what they’d just heard.  
  
Will ground his teeth together, looking up to the heavens, praying for patience.  If Joyce didn’t shut up soon, he was going to take matters into his own hands.  Very quietly, very firmly, Buffy started speaking.  
  
“Will does love me. . . Probably more than I realize.  He’s not going to throw me out when I can’t have sex with him, because if he didn’t two weeks ago, when the doctor told us we couldn’t, then he won’t ever.”    
  
The distant sound of a train broke the near silence, the low hum of passing cars a soft melody, highlighting the fact Buffy had just admitted to her mother they were sleeping together.  
  
“And, Mom, just so you know, we’ve rescued each other.  We save each other every night.”  
  
“Oh, please, Buffy, save me the romantic trash.  He’s your English teacher and he should be in jail.”  
 _  
Oh that’s just . . . That tears it.  I’ve had enough of this shite._   “ ** _I_** should be in jail?  Why?  Because I fell in love with your daughter?  I’m not the one who should be in jail.”  He paced close to Joyce, crowding her, pushing her back toward her Jeep.  “You know why she wouldn’t go home?  Coz it’s not safe for her there.  The day Buffy dropped out of school, she showed up with a bruise on her face that was . . . oh, about this big.”  He picked up her hand, examining it in the moonlight.    
  
“Giles noticed it, since I didn’t even see her that day.  He also said he’d seen bruises up and down her arm.  So you tell me, Joyce, why Buffy wouldn’t go back home when things like that were happening?”  
  
He dropped her hand, backing away from her.  “Wasn’t me who left my only child for weeks at a time, without any supervision or control.  Wasn’t me who didn’t even bother reporting her missing.  It about killed me because I couldn’t file the report, hell I couldn’t even go to you and get you to do it.”    
  
“I spent every night, every single bloody night, for three weeks, looking for her.  I couldn’t eat, couldn’t sleep for worrying ‘bout her.”  He was pacing back and forth in front of her, his movements controlled save for the strides back and forth.  “Truth is, I love your daughter.  Doesn’t matter how old she is or what she looks like.”  
  
He paused in his pacing, standing still for a moment.  Buffy knew he was trying to control his temper and she hoped her mother would keep her mouth shut, but her luck wasn’t any better than it normally was, and her mother kept right on, spouting more and more angry words.  
  
“What I do with regard to my child is none of your business.  You’re just her teacher.  You have no right to criticize me at all.”  
  
“Oh, yes I do.  What you did to your daughter was abusive, you bloody hypocrite.  You left her alone, at least twice, for nearly a month.  That’s neglect.”  Will started ticking off on his fingers.  “You hit your daughter, enough so that the school made note of it more than once.  That’s physical abuse.”  
  
When Joyce started to speak, Will got up in her face.  “Don’t, Joyce.  Do not push me.  Because I’ll get reports from social workers who’ve been to the house, I’ll get the counselors who’ve seen your daughter.  Hell, I’ll even get the school to back me up.”  
  
Her voice seethed with anger and something very akin to hatred.  “You wouldn’t dare.”  
  
He stared into her eyes, and even in the dim light, Joyce could see the ferocious emotions he was holding in check.  His voice was very low, and oh, so very soft.  “I would.”  
  
His face was inches from hers and she was forced to take a step back.  She tried once more pressing what she thought was her advantage.  “Buffy admitted you’ve slept together, which is still illegal.  You’ll lose your job and go to jail.”  
  
Will laughed then, a cold chilling laugh that cause the hair on her neck to stand up.  “No I won’t, because it’s not illegal.  She’s over eighteen, out of school, and. . .” He grinned wolfishly at her.  “She’s mine.”  
  
“What the hell does that mean?”  
  
“Means ‘til death do us part.  Means signed and sealed by the State of Nevada.”  
  
“What?!”  
  
Buffy finally spoke.  “We got married, Mom.”  
  
Neither one of them expected her reaction.  As Buffy’s pronouncement sunk in, Joyce burst into tears.  
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
  
Will watched as she got ready for bed, idly dumping her dirty clothes in the laundry basket they’d somehow acquired in the last couple of weeks.  She’d been mostly silent since they’d left her mother, obviously heavy thoughts weighing on her mind.  Given her mother’s strange reaction, Will supposed Buffy’s silence was to be expected.  Only he didn’t like it.  Wasn’t like her to be so quiet.  
  
She crawled into the bed beside him, her eyes on his bare chest.  “You know. . . I wasn’t planning on telling her.  She just got me so aggravated that it just kind of exploded.”  
  
His low chuckle filled the bedroom, as his hand ran down from her shoulder to her wrist.  “I almost spilled the beans once or twice.  Was on the tip of my tongue more than once, so no worries there.”  
  
“Did . . . Did you mean all those things?”  Her voice was whisper soft, her head bowed as she nervously plucked at the blankets.  
  
“What things?  About pressing charges if she made accusations ‘bout me?”  
  
When she wouldn’t look at him, Will tilted up her chin, so she could answer his question.  
  
“Yeah, all that.”  
  
“Every bloody word of it.”  
  
She searched his eyes for sincerity and Buffy nodded once, remaining silent.  He sighed, debating on the wisdom of letting her know he wasn’t the only one who’d been watching, and that there was plenty in her school records that hadn’t seen the light of day.  He didn’t want her to get mad at him, though, for looking at her records.  
  
“Don’t get shirty with me, kitten, but after you told me about being pregnant, I looked through your file.”  
  
When she didn’t pull away or flinch, Will kept going.  “All your stuff from Los Angeles is in there, including how your parents had you committed because they couldn’t deal.  They took all their problems out on you pet, and treated you horribly.  Giles has been worried about you since you transferred.”  
  
Buffy was quiet, almost too quiet and Will was worried about her reaction, especially when she choked out a little sob.  “He was worried about me?”  
  
“Still is, sweetheart.”   Taking a huge gamble, because his instincts were telling him the timing was right, Will plunged forward.  “Been thinking about this for a while, an’ you don’t have to do this right away, so think on it before you say no.    Your parents did a number on you, kitten, blaming you for their problems, rejecting you an’ maybe. . . Maybe you could talk to someone about it, yeah?”  
  
His voice had gotten softer as he talked, as if he were afraid she’d shut him out for suggesting it.  And that was her first reaction, but his words and the way he’d phrased them made her stop and think before she said no.   Nowhere in his last words had he said there was something wrong with her, nor had he said she was at fault.  In fact, he’d said the opposite.  
  
Unknowingly, his next words sealed it for her.  “None of it was your fault, not the divorce or their reactions.  You were. . . .You _are_ amazingly strong to still be okay.  I just think you might want to sort out how you feel about it with someone who has no emotions tied up in it.”  
  
Buffy dropped her head onto his chest and Will released the breath he was holding.  “Might be a good idea.  I don’t wanna be like them.  I wanna be a good mom.  And I wanna stay married for a really long time.”  
  
His smile stretched from ear to ear, making him look a lot younger.  “Well that’s good, because I want the same.”  
  
She cast him a sly look.  “You wanna be a good mom?”  
  
Her comment completely changed the mood, and it took him a second or two to register exactly what she’d just quipped.  “Oi!  You minx.  You know what I mean.”  
  
Her giggles only worsened when he began tickling her.  
  
“That’s not what you said.”  
  
“Brat.”  
  
“But you love me.”  
  
“Only sometimes, sweetheart.”  
  
“Only?”  
  
“Yeah . . . . The rest of the time I adore you.”  
  
He’d trapped her body beneath his, kisses replacing tickling fingers and her breathy voice sounding out his name was the only noise until they both cried out in release.  
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
  
On the weekend, they were packing up all her belongings, with help from Giles and Jenny, and the unexpected assistance of Willow, from Revello Drive to their house on Crawford Street.  Joyce was conspicuous by her absence, although she’d left a package for Buffy of all her paperwork and a letter that remained unopened.  
  
They were just starting to bring out the boxes, loading them into the small truck Will had rented for the occasion and Buffy was standing on the front lawn with Willow when a high pitched whistle broke through the mid-afternoon quiet.  Only the two girls froze, the others paying no heed to the random noise, and they shared a look, which only ended when the redhead shrugged her confusion.  
  
“Buffy?”  Xander’s voice calling his wife’s name caught Will’s attention and he stopped in the shadowed doorway, waiting to see what unfolded.  
  
“Hey, Xander.”  She was subdued, had been quiet most of the day, depressed because her mother wasn’t there, yet relieved for the same reason.  
  
“Buffster. . .  Willow said you were okay and safe, and it’s nice to see you are.”  He walked across the lawn, his eyes sparkling with happiness at finally seeing for himself how she was.  “You look great.”  
  
“Thanks.  I feel better.”  She smiled in return then stepped into the hug he was offering.    
  
Will breathed a sigh of relief, letting go of the worry he’d had over her emotions.  She’d been subdued and down since the confrontation with her mother, and maybe seeing Xander and Willow would be the best thing for her right now.  He smiled a bit as she brushed back her hair, then turned to go back upstairs and get another box.  
  
“Yeah, heard about the scare, not what caused it though.  Are you in an okay place?  This new place you’re living?”  He stepped away from her, trying to figure out what was different, aside from her bigger belly.  “Do you need anything?  Money?  Muscle?”  
  
Giles stepped out from the van then, not noticing their surprise addition until he was almost upon them.  “Eh, hello, Xander.”  
  
“Hey, Mr. Giles.”  He looked between the two girls and the much older man, reaching a very erroneous conclusion.  “You’re gonna be staying with Mr. Giles?”  
  
The two girls shared a look while Giles stuttered out something unintelligible.  Buffy raised an eyebrow in question and Willow stared back, shaking her head.  “Xander, you gotta promise not to wig and not to say anything to anyone.”  
  
“Not even Cordy.”  Willow added, after catching the look on Giles’ face.  
  
Xander made a zipping motion over his lips, predictably causing smiles to break out on the  girls’ faces.  
  
Buffy grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the house.  “There’s someone I want you to meet, Xan.  It’s my husband.”  
  
He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at her.  “Buff?  What?  Please tell me you didn’t marry Captain Cardboard . . . Please, Buff.  Didn’t Willow tell you what he’s been doing?”  
  
With a giggle Buffy tugged him forward again.  “Riley is so out of the picture.  Nope, it’s not him.  C’mon, Xander.”  
  
They made it inside the hallway, just as Will was bringing down another box.  “Hey, Mr. Stevenson.  Is the whole English contingent of Sunnydale High helping today?”  
  
Will dropped the box on top of the others lining the hallway, wiped off a hand on his jeans then shook Xander’s hand.  “Llo, whelp.”  
  
“So, Buff, where is the guy?”  Xander leaned forward, peering first into the living room, down the hallway and into the dining room.  
  
The girls broke into giggles behind him and he felt like he’d missed something.  “Is he upstairs?”  
  
More giggles now and he noticed Mr. Stevenson getting into the act by chuckling.  
  
“Xander, this is Will.  Will, this is my friend Xander.”  
  
It took him longer than a moment to realize what Buffy meant.  When he finally did catch on, Xander stared, mouth agape, eyes darting from one blonde to another.  His response was rather eloquent.  “Huh?”  
  
She reached for Will’s hand, a blindingly bright smile wreathing her features.  “Can you believe it?  I’m so happy.”  
  
“What? . .  . Wow . . . When?  How?”  
  
“We got married.  Did it three weeks ago in Vegas.”  
  
“Holy frijoles.”  He stood there, completely stunned, unable to form a complete thought, much less a sentence.  
  
“C’mon, whelp, since you’re here, you can do some heavy lifting.”  Will clapped him on the back and dumped one of the boxes into his arms.  ‘Let’s go.”


	35. Beginning All

**_Thirty-fifth.  Beginning All  
  
The good ended happily, and the bad unhappily.   
That is what Fiction means.   
    Oscar Wilde, The Importance of Being Earnest, act 2   
                                  
Stay with me,  
My love I hope you'll always be  
Right here by my side if ever I need you  
Oh my love  
In your arms,  
I feel so safe and so secure  
Everyday is such a perfect day to spend  
Alone with you  
I will follow you will you follow me  
All the days and nights that we know will be  
I will stay with you will you stay with me  
Just one single tear in each passing year  
    Genesis, Follow You, Follow Me, from the album  
    And Then There Were Three, 1978  
  
A successful marriage requires   
falling in love many times,   
always with the same person.   
    Mignon McLaughlin, The Second Neurotic's Notebook   
  
Marriage is a book   
of which the first chapter   
is written in poetry   
and the remaining chapters in prose.   
    Beverley Nichols  
  
Oh how quiet, quiet the world can be   
when it's just you and little me   
everything is clear, everything is new   
so you won't be leaving will you   
and if you're cold, I'll keep you warm   
if you're low, just hold on   
cos I will be your safety   
oh don't leave home   
    Dido, Don’t Leave Home, from the album  
    Life For Rent, 2004  
  
In the opinion of the world,   
marriage ends all,   
as it does in a comedy.   
The truth is precisely the opposite:   
it begins all.   
    Anne Sophie Swetchine_**  
  
  
  
He’d helped them move all Buffy’s things, his mind on autopilot, not really registering anything about his surroundings until Mr. Stevenson – Will – turned on his stereo, filling the whole house with music.  At that point, Xander had started paying attention.  
  
Buffy’s new house had three bedrooms, and a small office, which could be used as another bedroom, if necessary.  A full basement, garage and a nice big backyard and a goofy long-eared dog.  And, here was the kicker, an entertainment system he’d be willing to kill for.  
  
He stood in the doorway of the kitchen, watching Buffy get drinks for everyone, as she hummed and bopped along with the music.  
  
“Didn’t know you liked the Ramones.”  His remark was soft enough not to startle her.  
  
The smile she directed over her shoulder was genuine, the first one he’d seen in a long while.  _Actually, she’s smiled more than once today, and they’ve all been huge big smiles._  
  
“Will’s been teaching me the finer points of punk.”  
  
“Definitely a much overlooked and underrated genre.”  He moved further into the room, checking out the appliances and the backyard.  “So, Buff . . .  I’m all curious, care to tell me how this happened?”  
  
She’d known this question was coming the minute she told Xander.  Stealing herself for the conversation, Buffy stalled for time.  “Tell me something first and then I’ll answer you.”  
  
“Ohhh . . .   Quid pro quo.  Cool.  Should you put me behind glass first?”  He stole a cracker from the serving tray in front of him.  
  
Buffy looked at him like he was crazy, then as her brain caught up with the reference, she laughed.  “Just call me Clarice.”  
  
When he made that creepy, slithery, slurpy noise, she squealed out, “Eeeeewww, Xander.”  
  
He laughed right along with her, then said “Go ahead, ask me.”  
  
“How did you just happen to be passing my mother’s house today?” Buffy leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, watching him.  
  
“I wasn’t.  Your mom wanted me to get the mail and check on the house while she’s gone.”  
 _  
So that’s why she’s not around._   Without hiding the hurt, Buffy asked. “Did she say where she was gonna be and when she’d be back?”  
  
“Didn’t say where she was going, but she said she’d be gone for about a month.”  His face held so much sympathy, too much for her to take.  Buffy had to look away.  
  
“Oh.”  She paused, gathering herself to tell Xander about her and Will, when Will’s voice started singing along with Joey Ramone.  A another bright smile broke over her features  and Xander knew whatever she was feeling was real.  “So you wanna know about me and  Will.   Better pull up a chair, this could take a while.”  
  
In the end though, it hadn’t taken very long at all, and long before the others missed Xander’s presence unloading the boxes, Buffy had updated him about everything.  
  
Still, it took Xander the better part of the next two days to actually assimilate Buffy and Will’s story.  It didn’t really hit home until he was sitting in English, watching Mr. Stevenson teach.  His best friend had married his English teacher.    
  
That was weird.  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
Buffy stared at the paperwork and envelope from her mother for a few minutes every day, but never once opened either.  The paperwork should have all been routine stuff, school and doctor’s records, bank information  – stuff she’d eventually need.  The envelope was another issue altogether and not something she wanted to face.  
  
So every day she looked at it, and every day she put it aside.  _Nope, not ready to do that yet._ Will didn’t press her about it, figuring when she was ready, Buffy would open it up and either share it with him or not.  But it was something she had to do.  And eventually she would.  
  
Friday afternoon found her waiting for Will, bored out of her mind.  She’d spent all morning studying for her GED, which was scheduled for the beginning of March and Buffy figured she was as ready as she could be.  _Not like it’s been years since I was in school, so I should be okay with all this testing._  
  
She wandered through the house, Clem at her heels – ever since the scare, he’d been guarding her, never far away from her, especially if Will wasn’t home.  It was chilly, rain falling lightly against the grey skies and it reflected her current mood.  Buffy felt restless, unable to focus on any one thing.  There had been no word from her mother, not that she’d really expected any, but it would have been nice to know where she was.  
  
Once more she found herself staring at the paperwork and the dreaded envelope.  _Oh, lemme just get this over with._   Buffy flipped quickly through the papers, idly noting banks and balances when a figure caught her eye.  _Whoa . . . that can’t be right. . . there’s way too much money in that account._   Looking closer, she saw it was a brand-new account, opened just after her birthday.  _What the hell?_  
  
There was no explanation in the statement, as to where the funds came from, nor was there any indication the money wasn’t completely hers.  She’d have to look at the account a little closer, maybe get Will to explain it. . . _or maybe there’s an explanation in here._  
  
Buffy ripped open the envelope, sat down and started to read.  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
  
Will walked in the door, in a relatively good mood for a couple of reasons.  Mostly because it was Friday and he could spend the next two days with his beautiful wife and, well, because he had such a beautiful wife.  
  
Who was currently sitting on the floor, her back against the wall and papers strewn all around her.  Clem was laying beside her and both of them looked up at his approach.  “Buffy?”  
  
“Hi.”     
  
He thought better of mentioning both she and Clem had identical expressions.  “What’s going on?”  
  
“I don’t know.  I should be angry or really disappointed, but all I feel is really numb.”  She shifted some of the papers, clearing a spot for him to sit.  
  
“What happened?”  He sat down facing her, his legs splayed out on either side of hers.  
  
She thrust a couple of pages at him.  “Here.  Read this.”  
  
Will stared at her before grabbing them.  “Something tells me I’m not gonna like this.”  
  
The smile she sent his way wasn’t a happy one.  “You’re not wrong.”  
  
Without another word, he started reading.  It was a letter, from her mother.  
  
 _Dear Buffy,  
  
I’m not sure where to begin.  I’ve been doing some hard thinking over the past few weeks, actually since I realized you weren’t coming home anytime soon, but especially in the past week or so.  
  
Enclosed with your paperwork is information you probably will need, including something at the moment, I’m not particularly proud of.  I took the Finns’ money, even after you said you didn’t want it.  I thought I was doing what was best for you and your child.  The terms of the agreement are simple, neither you nor I can access the money alone, at least until you turn twenty-one.  At that point all control is yours.  
  
I don’t approve of your marriage.  I think he’s taking terrible advantage of you.  You’re vulnerable right now and you think you’re in love.  Give it a few years, I’m sure that will change when he starts to resent you for carrying another man’s child, if that is actually true.  I don’t know what to believe from you anymore.  I know you aren’t the young lady I thought I raised.  But you’ve made your choices and you’ll have to live with the consequences.  You know where to find me if you ever need me.  
  
You might want to inform your father of what you’ve done.  You’ve made adult decisions, so now you have to start taking responsibility for them and despite what you might think or feel, he is still your father.  He has a right to know what you’ve done.  
  
I’ll contact you when I return from Minnesota.  Please remember that I do love you and I only wanted to protect you and do what I thought was for the best.  _  
  
She signed it almost as impersonally as she’d written it, simply.  “ _Your Mother_.”  
  
Will stared at the pages, unable to think past the anger.  _What a bleeding bitch that one is. . . How the hell did she ever manage to produce my girl?_  
  
“I’m not calling my father.”  It was the first thing she said since he started reading and he wasn’t surprised at all.  
  
“Don’t think you should.”  He was more concerned with what she was thinking about the money, but he held his tongue, waiting to see what else she had to say.  
  
“I can’t believe she took their money.”  She paused, looking through the paperwork strewn about the floor.  Finding the bank statements in question, Buffy handed them over to Will.  “Here.  Look at this.”  
  
A low whistle filled the air.  “That’s a nice piece of change.”  
  
“Yeah, but it’s still money I didn’t want to take.  Now he’s not going to pay or have to think about what he threw away.”  Buffy shrugged, a sly smile creeping across her features.  “Although I think I got the better deal.  No Riley.  Just you and baby.”  
  
He laughed then, more from relief than any other emotion.  “Actually, kitten.  I got the better end of it.”  Will surged on his knees, hauling her into his arms.  “I got you . . .  and that’s worth everything.”  
  
Buffy hugged him close, speaking softly into his chest.  “I’ve been thinking about what you suggested, about going to talk to someone.  I think that would be a good idea.”  
  
  
********************************************************************  
  
  
There was still a very real fear, in both of them, that sooner or later word would get to the powers about their relationship and they would be forced to flee the country – very quickly.  So to that end, Will had filed for their passports, and he always made sure the bills were all paid.  He was worried though, and not even Drusilla’s quiet confidence had him anything near convinced the other shoe wasn’t about to drop.  But every day the secret held was another day closer to safety.  
  
Despite his initial reluctance, Will had agreed to Xander’s request to inform Cordelia and the cheerleader had been drawn into their confidence.  The number of people who knew only increased the danger and Will walked around the school constantly on edge.  
  
However, the one bright spot in his days had been the scare he and Giles had put into Riley Finn.  Since Buffy’s closest friends all knew, Cordelia had told both Englishmen about their suspicions that Riley was following Willow and her theories as to why.  Quickly figuring Cordelia had the right of it, the two men came up with a plan.  
  
Riley was called into Giles’ office and told, in no uncertain terms, if his harassment of Willow Rosenberg didn’t cease immediately, Giles would be contacting Major MacArthur, and it would be marked on his record.  Though protesting his innocence it was clear to everyone in the room Riley knew he was caught.  Knowing the root cause of his curiosity, Giles posed the question, “What is your purpose in following Miss Rosenberg?”  
  
The gangly teen hung his head.  “I had some questions about my old girlfriend, Buffy Summers.  I just wanna know if she’s okay.  And maybe apologize for some of the things I said.”  
  
Both of them realized the boy specifically stated “ _things I said_ ” and not actions, which to Will meant the boy still would have dumped her.  Well, like Buffy said, Finn’s loss was their gain . . .  and really, he’d thank the heavens, the powers, God, every day for the next sixty years that he’d been so colossally stupid.  Trying to gauge the boy’s sincerity, Will stared at him for more than a few moments.  Leaving this part of the conversation up to Will, Giles sat back, playing the almost impartial observer.  
  
After a few long minutes, wherein Riley got more and more uncomfortable, without really knowing why, Will finally spoke.  “She’s fine.  Safe as houses, in fact.  An’ if you’re sincere about the apology, I’ll make sure she hears of it.”  
  
“I am, sir.”  
  
“Then I’ll see she hears it.  Don’t expect to hear anything back, though, Finn, I’m sure she’s not ready to see you.” _Or that she even wants to, you stupid git._  
  
“That’s okay.  I just want her to know.”  He looked at the older gentleman.  “Can I go now?”  
  
“Yes, just remember, Mr. Finn, one misstep and it’s all over.”  
  
“I will, sir.”  
  
The two Englishmen waited until he was gone, then almost simultaneously they both exploded.  
  
“What tripe.”  Was Giles’ rather pithy comment, while Will spluttered out, “Hulking git.  Bloody wanker.”  
  
“So you don’t think he means it?”  All Will did was raise an eyebrow and Giles had his answer.  “No, I very much gathered you didn’t.”  
  
      
******************************************************************  
  
  
It was the middle of the following week and Will was in the throes of a passionate recital of MacBeth’s soliloquy when his intercom buzzed.  Motioning for one of the students to get it, he went on with the speech until the end.  He paused, watching their reactions when Jonathan Levinson’s voice broke through their applause.  
  
“Mr. Stevenson?  Your wife is on the phone in the office.  They said it’s an emergency.”  
  
His head snapped up and worry instantly flooded through him.  “Oh, hell.”  
  
“Tell them I’m on my way.”  
  
“They said they’ll patch her through.”    
  
“Fine.  Give me the phone.”  He reached for it, then motioned the teen away.  
  
Everyone in the class was staring at him, most of them with confused wonder on their faces.  Only Willow wasn’t surprised.  None but her had known about Mr. Stevenson’s marriage at all, and there was shock on more than one face.  
  
Will grabbed the phone, angling his face away from the class.  “Kitten?”  
  
“I’m fine, Will, so stop worrying right now.”  
  
He blew out a breath and his heart stopped thumping so hard.  “You sure?”  
  
“Positive.  The mail just came.”  There was a quavering nervous hint to her voice and Will couldn’t figure out why.  
  
“An’ you’re calling to tell me this?”  
  
“Will. . . I opened one of your letters.”  
  
Confusion filled his head.  “Yeah an’?  Got nothing to hide from you, so what’s this about?”  
  
She giggled then, saying, “So not even thinking you got something like that.  God, the places your mind goes.”  
  
“Quit playing, sweetheart, an’ tell me what’s what.”  
  
“All right, Mr. Grouch.”  She paused, then gushed out in a breathless rush, “One of the publishing houses responded.  They want to publish your poems . . .   And Will, they want to see anything else you’ve done.  They’re offering an advance of twenty-five thousand dollars.”  
  
“What?”  Every teen in the classroom jumped at the sound of his voice.  “Holy buggering. . . Go ahead, kitten, read the whole thing.”  
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
They were walking home from the Espresso Pump, talking quietly in the midnight darkness.  Buffy was leaning against Will’s arm, her head bumping against his shoulder with every step.  She let out a soft giggle, drawing his attention to her.  “What’s funny, baby?”  
  
“I just realized. . . This is pretty much where it started for us.”  She moved back a bit, looking up at his face.    
  
He looked around at their surroundings, realizing they were just outside the gates of the cemetery where he’d first found her way back in October.  A chuckle emerged from his lips and Will squeezed her hand.  “Actually, sweetling, I noticed you a bit earlier than that. . . Kept catching my eye, you did.  Thought you were adorable first time I laid eyes on you.  Just couldn’t do anything ‘bout it.”  
  
As his words washed over her, Buffy felt the blush creeping over her face.  “So confession time, huh?  Well . . .” She drew out the word, then spoke quickly in a rush.  “I was crushing on you so badly . . .  from the minute I saw you on my first day here.  I was. . . _Damn_.”  She ducked her head, hiding from his gaze.  “I thought you were the hottest . . .   I saw you and almost . . . you don’t really know what . . . you are just gorgeous.”  
  
Will stopped short, disbelief coloring his features.  He shook his head, drinking in her presence.  Tugging her hand, pulling her around to look at him, Will started speaking.  “Buffy. . .   Buffy, love, you have no _idea_ how beautiful you are, no idea.  If you think. . . If I’m  as gorgeous as you say I am, you eclipse me.  God, woman. . . You are. You are the most beautiful thing I’ve _ever_ seen.”    
  
Her almost embarrassed giggles filled the air around them and he smiled just to hear the joy in her laughter.  “So, it’s like this mutual admiration thing, huh?”  
  
“Looks that way, princess.”    
  
“So that’s a good thing.”  
  
“The best.”  Deciding against any heavy conversation, Will tried to keep their interaction light.  “What say we get some ice cream?”  
  
“Mmmmm. . .  Nah.  How about cheeseburgers?”  Her belly rumbled softly and he smiled.  “So our girl wants something different tonight?”  
  
Buffy ran her hand over her ever-growing belly.  “I guess so.”  Looking down, she realized, “I can’t see my feet anymore.”  Wrinkling her nose, she playfully grumbled.  “Maybe we should just get some low-fat yogurt.”  
  
“Oh, baby, you know . . .”  He paused, searching for a way to say what he wanted without setting off the emotional roller-coaster.    
  
But before he could compose his thoughts, she interrupted him.  “Does it bother you that. . . About the baby?”  
  
He whipped his head up to look at her, barely able to make out the sudden shimmer of tears in her eyes.  “What?”  He reached for her, his hands gripping her shoulders tightly, holding her still.  “ _Buffy_. . . Buffy, look at me.”  
  
A soft sniffle was his only answer and when she didn’t look up at him, his hold tightened, then he lifted his left hand to cup her chin.  “Told you once before how I felt an’ nothing’s changed since then.  This is my baby girl here,” and his hand dropped to her belly, rubbing soft circles over her.  “I’ll love you both for always, sweets, because you’re both mine.  Doesn’t matter to me how either of you got here.  You’re mine.”  
  
Guessing accurately where this came from, Will spoke softly, pulling her into his embrace. “Your mother is wrong, I don’t resent you . . .  or her . . .  and I won’t.  I love you too much for that.”  His hand drifted down to cup her rounded buttock, squeezing her gently.  “Besides, I’ve got plans to get you in this state again before to long.”  
  
It took her a few seconds to realize what he meant and all she could do was gape at him.  “Will . . .   You do realize it’ll be a while after this baby’s born before we can start on another.”  
  
He looked down into her eyes, his own blue gaze filling with heat, warming her up in the cool February night air.  “Hhhmmm . . .  ‘bout six weeks or so is all we need to wait.  You’re beautiful . . .  you glow . . . when you’re . . . Sometimes I look at you an’ I can’t breathe because I love you so much.”  He dropped a quick kiss on her mouth, whispering softly, “An’ being inside you, when you’re already full of new life is just . . .  icing on the cake.”  
  
His hand slid inside her coat, up underneath her loose shirt, fingers tracing idle patterns on her soft skin.  She could barely think because of his words, his touch upon her skin setting off all her nerves.  Buffy leaned closer into his arms, her nose bumping against his collarbone.  “What makes you so sure baby is a girl?”  
  
A deep chuckle rumbled through him and Will slid both hands up her back, deftly unhooking her bra without her noticing.  “Just a feeling. “  
  
“Ah huh.”  Will distracted her by kissing a line down from her temple to a spot just below her ear.  Nipping her skin, he spoke softly, “Stands to reason, is all . . .  ‘m already wrapped around her tiny fingers, so. . .”   
  
“Will, let’s just go home.”  
  
Cool fingers wrapped around her nipples as his mouth found hers.  Tongues met, dueling, fighting gently for supremacy.  Her small fingers slid past cotton and leather, sliding up his sleek muscles, echoing his own motions on her breasts.  
  
They broke for air, Will trailing kisses over her face, breath cool against her heated skin.  “Used to drive me crazy, meeting you out here.”  
  
Nibbling kisses rained over her again, and his restless hands smoothed over her belly, sliding around to clasp her close to him.  Strong and hard, his erection grew against her belly and Buffy slid her hand down to cup him.  He groaned in her ear, speaking again.  “Toughest thing in the world was knowing I could have you an’ not being able to touch you.”  
  
“Oh?”  Buffy popped the top button of his jeans, knuckles brushing against his exposed skin.  
  
“Oh yeah, baby. . . More.”  When she slowly pushed the next two buttons through, he fought to maintain some control.  “Never wanked so much in m’life. . . Yeah, like that.”  
  
Her fingers closed around his engorged length, stroking hard.  His eyes closed and Will reveled in the contrast between her warm hand and the cool night air.  “Wanted you so much.”  
  
“You could have had me you know . . .”   Heavy lidded eyes stared down into hers, searching for the truth.  “You weren’t the only one wanting . . .”  
  
“Aaahhh . . .  yeah, like that.”  His kiss was hungry, urgent now.  “Not gonna make it home, if you keep that up, kitten.”  
  
An impish look stole across her face and Buffy tugged him forward, toward the low stone wall encircling the cemetery.  “Might not be a bad thing.”  
  
Buffy sat down, hooking her fingers into his waist band, pulling him closer.  Her legs opened, ankles sliding around his, trapping him between her thighs.  
  
“Kitten?”  Will looked down at the top of her head.  His eyes fixed on her.  “What’re you. . . oh fuck.”    
  
Nimble fingers had been unbuttoning him while he spoke and her small hand circled the base of his cock.  He was pulsing, twitching from her touch and Will rocked forward, his knees weak.  
  
Her thumb brushed over the head, smearing the drops of pre-cum over it, while her other hand cupped his balls.  Stealing a glance up at him, wanting to see what her touch and words did to him, Buffy spoke whisper softly.  “I wanted to do this for you . . .  so many times, wanted to show you . . .  the way you showed me.”  
  
His head was thrown back, one hand fisted at his side, the other tangled in the long locks of her hair.  His expression was hidden from her, but she could feel him twitching, holding himself back and see the hot air rising up into the dark skies above them.  Encouraged by his response, Buffy squeezed his cock, sweeping her hand up then back down again.  
  
“Christ.”  He thrust into her hand, his voice groaning in a barely heard whisper.  
  
His entire body shuddered when she gave into the urge that had been tugging at her for days, her mouth surrounding him and her tongue washing over his cock.  “Fuckin’ hell, woman.”  
  
Her eyes lit up and she did it again, wrapping her lips around it, giving a hard pull as her tongue swirled around him.  Her hand didn’t stop moving, twisting up and down his hard length.  
  
Before Will had a chance to recover, Buffy slid his cock into her mouth, sucking hard.  
  
Will’s fingers, still tangled up in her hair, moved forward, gliding along her cheek, feeling her mouth tense around him.  “Aahhh . . . fuck, baby . . .  tha’s it.”  
  
Almost brainless incoherent noises sounded in the crisp air and his entire focus was on what Buffy’s hands and mouth are doing, the feel of her pulling, her tongue circling around his cock.    
  
Her hands gripped his ass, squeezing rhythmically in time with her mouth.  His midnight black duster hid her actions, shielding them both from the outside world, narrowing everything down to the two of them.  
  
“Buffy, baby . . .  gonna cum. . .”  
  
Will could feel her smile, her thumb pressing hard against the base of his cock and her teeth raked over his sensitized flesh and he couldn’t hold back, her movements undoing him.  He gasped out her name, knees weak and heart thundering in his chest.  “Fuck. . . _Oh holy fuck . . ._ ”  
  
Buffy leaned back, her mouth freeing him with a pop, pink tinging her cheeks.  
  
It took him a few minutes to recover, and once his hands stopped trembling, Will hesitantly tucked himself back inside his jeans.  As if they were unable to hold him upright any longer, Will’s knees collapsed and he dropped down within the circle of Buffy’s body.  His arms rested around her hips and his head fell naturally on her burgeoning belly.  
  
A little laugh escaped her and he smiled along with her when she spoke.  “Guess that was okay.”  
  
He heard the underlying question though, though he couldn’t quite form anything resembling clear thinking.  He tried, all the same, to convey his thoughts.  “More than . . .  okay . . .  bloody . . .   Fucking.  Wonderful.”  
  
“Really?”  Just like that her insecurity and youth were laid out for her and Will lifted his head to stare at her.  
  
“Yeah, really, kitten.  Am too bloody spent to try an’ lie to you.  Not that I would in any case.”  He rose to his feet, pulling her up into his arms.  “Amazing.”  
  
Her blushed deepened and she ducked her head, hiding against his chest.  “Glad you liked it.”  Buffy looked away then, trying to keep her composure.  “It’s the first time I actually . . .  oh . . .  never mind.”  
  
Buffy moved away from him, taking the first steps toward home.    
  
“What?  First time wha?”  Will grabbed for her hand, turning her around to face him.  She wouldn’t look at him, but at his insistent tug on her hand, blurted out, “First time I got it right.”  
  
Anger slammed through him – not at her artless confession – but at Finn, who’d obviously done more than just dump her.  “Buffy . . .  look at me.”  
  
Taking a deep breath and determined to keep this as emotionless as possible, Will said, “He’s a git.  There’s no wrong way, unless you’re not with me.  You’re my wife an’ whatever you wanna do, however you wan’ to do it is fine by me.”  
  
She hung her head for a moment, then wiped her eyes.  “Didn’t mean to get all serious.”  
  
A wide grin stretched his face and he whispered something she didn’t understand.  “What’s that?  Post coy-whatsis?”  
  
“Post coitus, triste.  Latin for after sex, sorrow.”  At her affronted look, he scooped her up into his arms.  “Course you haven’t had an orgasm yet, but ‘ll remedy that right quick.”  
  
Buffy wrapped her arms around his neck, nestling into his hold.  “Promise?”  
  
“Oh yeah, kitten, I promise.  For tonight an’ always.”  
  
“For the next five or six hundred years?”  
  
“Easily that long.”  
  
She was silent then, content in his arms, her eyes watching him as he carried her home.  “Will?   I’m really . . . Thank you.”  
  
“What for?”  
  
“For being my safety.  For rescuing me.”  
  
He stopped walking then, to look down at her face.  Her eyes were sparkling with unshed tears, though there was a soft smile playing about her lips.  “You saved me, baby.”  
  
She shook her head, unable to speak.  
  
Will loosened his hold on her, letting her feet hit the ground.  His arms circled round her, and his mouth settled on hers, all his emotions in the kiss.  
  
“We’re home, kitten, safe and sound.  Both of us.”  
  
  
 _And they lived happily ever after . . .  until the next crisis._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song by Dido was actually the partial inspiration for this story.


	36. Ever After.

**_Ever After.  
  
You came into my life  
And you filled me and you filled me  
Oh so joyous  
By the clear cool crystal streams  
Where the roads were quiet and still  
And we walked all the way  
To Tir Na Nog  
  
How can we not be attached  
After all we're only human  
The only way then is to never come back  
Except I wouldn't want that would you  
If we weren't together again  
In Tir Na Nog  
  
We've been together before  
In a different incarnation  
And we loved each other then as well  
And we sat down in contemplation  
Many many many times you kissed mine eyes  
In Tir Na Nog  
    Van Morrison, Tir Na Nog, from No Guru, No Method, No Teacher (1986)  
  
  
Have I told you lately that I love you  
Have I told you there's no one above you  
Fill my heart with gladness  
Take away my sadness  
Ease my troubles, that's what you do  
Oh the morning sun in all its glory  
Greets the day with hope and comfort too  
And you fill my life with laughter  
You can make it better  
Ease my troubles that's what you do  
  
There's a love that's divine  
And it's yours and it's mine  
Like the sun at the end of the day  
We should give thanks and pray to the One  
  
Have I told you lately that I love you  
Have I told you there's no one above you  
Fill my heart with gladness  
Take away my sadness  
Ease my troubles, that's what you do  
    Van Morrison, Have I Told You Lately?, Avalon Sunset (1989)_**  
  
  
  
  
It had been six long years since he’d stepped foot in this town and he looked around, trying to remember the places and things from that time, when he was still in high school.  A lot had changed, and yet at the same time, it was all so familiar.  The Espresso Pump was still there, though they’d expanded and now it looked like they had added restaurant service and more seating.  The streets of downtown were busy, since it was the weekend and more than once he’d had to shoulder his way past a group of people.  He’d gone past his old house, and the high school and now he was making his way toward her house.  In the six years he’d been gone, he’d pretty much severed every tie he had with this town, and he’d heard nothing from anyone in at least five of those years.  But he remembered.  He remembered her house number, her cell phone number and hell, he remembered the look on her face when he’d nearly hit her.    
  
He’d like to think, in the time he’d been gone, that he’d changed and grown up from that stupid teenager he’d been, concerned only with himself, not once thinking about how her pregnancy was going to affect her.  Riley Finn knew he’d been a fool.  Four long years in West Point, followed by stints in war-torn Bosnia and Iraq, he’d had time to look back on his actions from that last year in Sunnydale.  He’d treated her badly, discarded her because of his dreams and never once had anything more than a fleeting thought for her or the baby they created.  
  
And that was why he was here now.  To try and make amends for his behavior, for allowing his parents to capitalize on his desire to be a soldier and . . .   Riley stopped walking half a block away from her house, and shook his head.  He was doing it again.  Making excuses for his actions and inactions at that time.  Time to be a man and go apologize.  
  
With renewed purpose, Riley headed for Revello Drive.  
  
  
**************************************************************  
  
Buffy was in the kitchen, watching from the back window while Will and the kids were playing in the pool, a smile on her face.  She kept glancing out, while she was fixing dinner, listening to the sounds of their happy laughter.  Tomorrow was Amy’s birthday, and they were having a quiet celebration, just for them, before they were invaded by all her friends for the party.    
  
The stereo was thumping away, the infectious beat of Dancing in Heaven making her feet itch and Buffy found herself bopping away with Q-Feel, singing along softly.    
  
 _Dancing in Heaven, I never thought I'd ever get my feet this far._   
  
“Mommy!  Moooommmmyyyy!”  Amy’s lilting shriek brought her to the back door, and Buffy had to smile at the vision.  Amy was sitting on the pool’s edge, waving her arm wildly.  “Watch me jump, Mom!”  
  
“Okay, sweetie, I’m watching.”  She leaned against the door jamb, her hazel eyes settled on the form of her oldest child.  Amy was tall for her age, all long legs and arms, dark blond hair bleached from the sun and chlorine and her blue-hazel eyes were always sparkling with mischief.  She jumped to her feet, then headed for the deeper end of the in-ground pool, swim-bands around her arms.    Will was standing at the drop off point to the deep end, watching her and trying to keep the other eye on their madly splashing son in the shallower portion of the pool.  Their eyes caught and held for a minute and Buffy’s belly flip-flopped, the way it always did when he looked at her with _that_ look in his eye.    
  
Nothing had changed in the six years they’d been married, except life just kept getting better.  She was still madly in love with him, and it was obvious, from the look on his face that his feelings matched hers completely.  Amy’s voice broke into their distraction, and Buffy shook her head as Will tucked his tongue against his teeth and raised his scarred eyebrow at her.  
  
She mouthed at him, “Later” and his look morphed into a leer and he nodded his head.  Her mother was coming over for dinner and so was his uncle and Jenny, and hopefully it wouldn’t be a long night, since they had a busy day coming up tomorrow.    
  
“Watch me, Mom. . . Daddy, you ready?”  
  
“Go ahead, sweet bit, I’m ready.”  
  
Amy took a huge breath and with one last look at her parents, leaped into the pool, splashing water all over.  She came up spluttering, then dog-paddled over to her father, who lifted her up in his arms.  Buffy clapped her hands, smiling at the three of them in the pool.  Not to be outdone by his older sister, William kicked over to the edge of the pool and did the same, all the while shouting for her.  
  
William was almost five, sturdy and strong, almost as tall as Amy, but with big blue eyes and curly dark blond hair.  He looked so much like his father that Buffy sometimes wondered if she’d had anything to do with him at all, other than carry him for nine months.  Her husband hadn’t been kidding, all those years ago when he’d said he wanted her pregnant again right after Amy was born, and before the following November, she had been.  
  
Her baby boy jumped out of the pool, racing toward her, arms wide for a hug.  “Mommy. . . Today is the bestest day.  Come swim with me?”  
  
“I can’t right now, sweetie, dinner’s cooking, but after dinner for sure, okay?”  His lower lip protruded and Buffy couldn’t resist scooping him up in her arms.  “I promise.”  
  
He smelled of sun-block and chlorine as he nestled into her arms, water dripping and Buffy felt her heart constrict.  Contrary to the problems surrounding Amy’s pregnancy, William’s had been a breeze, no complications or frustrations marring that time.  He struggled to get down after raising his face to hers for kisses.   
  
“It’s time to get out of the pool anyway, so you can all be ready for dinner.  Uncle Rupert and Aunt Jenny should be here soon.”  
  
A chorus of high-pitched grumbles reached her ears, but Buffy ignored them, turning back into the kitchen.  Dinner was simple tonight, chicken cutlets and rice, Amy’s favorite, with a small birthday cake for dessert.  Buffy turned away from the stove when the doorbell rang, calling out to the others to get out of the pool now.  
  
  
****************************************************************  
  
  
Joyce was nervous and she was doing her best to hide it, yet she still stalled, putting off leaving until the last minute.  This was the only the second family function Buffy and Will had invited her to since their reconciliation and she wasn’t quite sure how to take it.  The invitation had come via email, which was pretty much the only way she and her daughter communicated but she figured it was better than not communicating.  Their relationship had been fraught with problems, and even her going through rehab and sticking with AA hadn’t repaired it as much as she’d hoped.  At least it was in better shape than Buffy’s relationship with her father, which was completely non-existent.  
  
Moving around the house, Joyce put the finishing touches on Amy’s birthday present and with a bit more resolve than she truly felt, headed for the front door.    
  
  
****************************************************************  
  
  
Riley was nearly at the house when he saw Buffy’s mother locking the front door.  She had a huge box, covered in bright wrapping paper and a bunch of balloons in her hand and after a struggle to understand, he realized what, and more importantly, why she had the gift.  
  
It could be some other reason, but Riley suddenly had the insight to guess why her mother might be carrying a child’s birthday present.  Mental calculations firing in his head, he tried to remember when it was that Buffy’s baby would have been born.    
  
  
He tensed as Joyce loaded up her car, ducking quickly behind the neighbor’s tree.  Hopefully her anger and Buffy’s had cooled in the intervening years, though Riley wasn’t going to take any chances.  The Jeep backed down the short driveway and he stepped out, preparing himself to do the impossible and chase after her.  Riley could only hope she wasn’t heading out of town, and that she was going where his sudden burst of intuition was telling him she was.  
  
Breaking out into a run, Riley followed behind the Jeep, realizing he was being somewhat foolish.  
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
      
The door opened to reveal Giles and Jenny, with presents and their own little one trailing behind them.  Serena was just a bit younger than little Will, graced with her father’s light eyes and her mother’s coloring, but she was a shy little thing, sometimes overwhelmed by Buffy’s own outgoing and boisterous hooligans.  “Hey, guys, dinner’s almost ready.  C’mon on in.”    
  
Exchanging hugs and kisses with the two people who’d given them the most support when Snyder pressured Will, Buffy fought sudden tears.  Shortly after the news came about his publishing deal, Will had gotten an offer from Redlands, followed by another offer from UC Sunnydale and he’d immediately resigned from Sunnydale High School.  Snyder, in a weird twist, had tried to pressure Will into staying, only to change his mind when he discovered Buffy living in his house.  The man had attempted to bring the issue to the school board and the police department, but when he approached Buffy’s mother, she’d balked at pressing charges and then the two members of the school board he’d approached had dismissed his concerns.  Citing the fact Buffy had dropped out of school and Will had resigned, they had declined to prosecute.  Snyder had then gone to Giles, only to discover he’d gone to the school board on Will’s behalf on the sly, and furthermore, wasn’t about to help Snyder prosecute his nephew.  Thwarted, Snyder hadn’t been able to do anything more than bottle his frustration, which backfired horrifically when the man dropped dead of a heart-attack in the middle of graduation.  
  
Giles was now the principal of the high school, while Jenny stayed home with Serena and worked on her performance art.  She was expecting their second child, though they had no plans to marry, and Jenny still kept her place, which she now used exclusively as her workshop.  They trooped in the door, and as Buffy was about to close it, she spied her mother’s Jeep making the turn onto Crawford Street.  
  
Will and the kids were coming in the back door, and she could hear the various voices raised in cheery hellos, squeals and giggles from the children and she decided to keep the door open, waiting for her mother to arrive.  
  
It was hard, talking with her mother, even after all this time, though Buffy figured it could have been worse.  Her mother was trying, which made a difference, but there were years of hurt, neglect, and anger she had to deal with.  It helped that she’d taken Will’s advice and found herself a good therapist.  Tara McClay was a god-send and Buffy left each session feeling like the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders.  The quiet, gentile woman made her feel so comfortable and protected it was hard to remain in just a patient-therapist relationship.    
  
“Hi, Mom.”  Buffy’s expression was carefully neutral, something she had to work hard at sometimes.  
  
“Hello, Buffy.  How are you?”  Joyce paused on the doorstep, her eyes watching the chaotic scene behind her daughter.  
  
“I’m good.  How’re you doing?”  She stepped aside, inviting her in with a smile.  “C’mon in, Mom.  Amy’s gonna love the balloons.”  
  
“Thanks.”    
  
Buffy closed the door behind her, shooing everyone into the living room, with admonishments to the kids to put on their shorts and tee-shirts for dinner.    
  
  
**************************************************************  
  
  
He lost sight of the Jeep when she rounded the corner onto. . . Riley checked the street sign, Crawford Street, and then followed after her.  Halfway down the second block, he saw the Jeep parked on the street, in front of a really nice Spanish hacienda type house, with an incongruous English garden on the side, complete with what looked like wisteria and heather.  Riley shook his head and stopped, taking deep breaths and thinking.  
  
 _Is this where she’s living?  Or did I follow her mother on some weird wild goose chase?_   A deep sigh broke from him and he stared at the Jeep before stealing a glance at the house.  The street was quiet, very little traffic and almost no other noise to mask the sudden sounds of laughter coming from behind the garden.  _No time like the present, soldier.  You came back here to see her, might as well take the chance this is her place._  
  
Gathering the remnants of his courage, Riley headed for the front door.  
  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
  
The doorbell rang one more time and Buffy yelled for Amy, who was in the living room with the other two children to get the door while she moved the chicken from the oven to platters.  Buffy hurried, not comfortable with leaving Amy at the front door by herself for long.    
  
With a towel in hand, Buffy moved into the hallway, stepping over the aging Clem, who was growling softly, while calling out to the other two to go wash their hands.  
  
“Amy, who is it?”    
  
Her daughter looked away from the partially opened door, stepped back a bit, and said, “It‘s a stranger, Mommy, asking for you.”  
  
Buffy reached the door, placed her hand on Amy’s shoulder and stared up into a pair of grey blue eyes she thought she’d never in her life see again.  
  
  
******************************************************************  
  
  
Noises sounded from inside the house and Riley held his breath waiting for someone to answer the door.  His hands were clasped behind his back and he rocked a little on his feet, needing some way to release the anxiety coursing through him.  He was trying to prepare some sort of speech for whoever opened the door, fully prepared to see another adult.  He was caught off guard, then, when the door was opened by a little girl, no older than seven.  
  
Unable to form words he smiled for a moment, then crouched down to her level so as not to scare the child.  “Hi.  Is your Mom or Dad home?”  
  
The little girl nodded, taking a step back further into the house.  “Both of them are home.  Do you want my Mom or my Dad?”  
  
A voice called out, “Amy, who is it?”    
  
Taking another step back, then turning around to look at the disembodied voice, she said, “It’s a stranger, Mommy, asking for you.”  
  
Riley struggled back to his feet in time for the little girl’s mother to reach the door and he nearly fell over when his eyes met hers.  
  
“Buffy?”    
  
His voice was deeper than she remembered and he was taller and broader.  There was a still healing scar on his cheek and he looked tired, like he’d been traveling for a while without much rest.  She couldn’t believe what she was seeing though and her brain struggled for something to say.  
  
“Hello, Riley.”    
  
They stared at each other for long minutes in silence, until Amy tugged at her arm, gaining Buffy’s attention.  “Mommy?“  
  
Realizing suddenly what was going on, Buffy shooed her away.  “Amy, go get your father.“  
  
Shooting the stranger a look, Amy headed through the house calling for her father.  
  
The two adults stood there, neither one of them certain of what to say, both of them at a loss for words.  Buffy had dreaded this day, hoping to never have to face this, at least not this soon.  For his part, Riley had been composing long speeches in his head for days, ever since he’d decided on this course of action, all of them centering on an apology.  He realized, staring at her now, taking in her long blond hair and bronzed skin, he’d had a vision in his head of her, still living at home, needing to be rescued from her life.  Which was so far from the picture of prosperity and happiness in front of him that he was currently at a loss, unable to get his head around that change.  
  
Fumbling about for something to say, Riley said the first thing that popped into his head.  “You look good.”  
  
Buffy stared up at him, nodded once then said, somewhat hesitantly, “Thanks.  You’ve. . . ah, changed a bit.”  
  
She motioned toward the scar and he gave her a self-deprecating look.  “Got this in Iraq, during some of the street fighting in Basra.”  
  
“You’re still in the Army?”  She wasn’t all that curious about what he was doing with his life, she was more concerned with why he was here, and why now – and she wasn’t going to get into this conversation without Will being around.  
  
“Yeah, I am.  I’m between . . . I’m going into Special Forces training and I’ve got some leave time before that, so I . . .”  
  
His voice trailed off and he went mute, unable to fill the sudden awkward silence surrounding them.  
  
The patter of little feet sounded out behind the door, and Buffy turned to look around to see who was approaching.  It was William, with Serena tagging along behind him, and he simply said, “Daddy’s coming.”  
  
Her answer was soft as she kissed him on the forehead.  “Okay, baby, go back inside and see what Uncle Rupert has.”  
  
“Kay.”  William leaned into her for a hug, then with a glance at the stranger, he tugged on Serena’s hair and ran off.  
  
  
*******************************************************************  
  
  
Amy came flying out the back door, yelling, “Daddy, somebody’s at the door and Mommy said to come get you!”  
  
Her face was flush and there was a strange look in her eyes, and Will could barely make out what she was saying until she stopped running and repeated herself.  “Daddy!  Mommy needs you at the front door.”  
  
“What’s wrong, bit?”  She was pulling on his hand, tugging him toward the house.  
  
Will shrugged, excusing himself from the conversation to talk to her.  “Amy, you shouldn’t interrupt like that.  Now, what’s going on?”  
  
“The door.  Mommy’s standing at the door and she said to come get you and I heard her talking to the scary man.”  Will glanced up, pushing Amy behind him and calling for William and Serena to come outside.  
  
“Who is it, Amy?”  
  
“Mommy called him Riley.”  
  
He froze, staring down at his daughter, unable to think clearly for a moment.  “Okay, sweetheart, you stay here with Aunt Jenny and Gram.”  
  
Sharing a look with his uncle, Will moved into the kitchen, turned off the oven and grabbed William and said, “Go tell your Mother I’ll be right there.”  
  
Giving himself a minute to calm his suddenly overwrought nerves, Will paused at the kitchen sink, watching Amy in the backyard talking to her grandmother.  Taking a deep breath, he held onto his nerves, then turned around to see Rupert watching him carefully.  “You do know there’s nothing he can do, without major legal action.”  
  
“Yeah, I know.  Doesn’t mean . . . I was hoping he’d stay away, just leave us alone forever, you know?”    
  
“I know, Will.”  Giles moved closer, resting a hand on Will’s forearm, lending him support.  “I also know that little girl is your daughter, in every sense of the word.  He can’t compete with that.  She thinks you hung the moon, Will, so hold onto that while you talk to him.”  
  
“Yeah.”  He paused, glancing once more out the back window, his eyes on Amy’s slight form.  “Yeah.  She’s my baby girl.”  
  
“That she is, Will.”    
  
Shaking off Rupert’s arm, Will headed for the front door, passing a laughing William and pouting Serena.  He stopped the two youngsters, telling them, “Stay in the backyard with your mother and gram.”  
  
Will reached the door just as silence descended between the two standing on the front porch, his eyes focused only on his wife.  He knew she could hear him walking down the hallway and her hand reached out for his, her head turning in his direction.  
  
“What’s up, kitten?”    
  
Just the sound of his footsteps calmed her, and Buffy ignored the man standing in front of her to look in his direction.  The sunlight was streaming in through the back of the house, so she couldn’t make out his expression, but she could see the tense lines of his shoulders and Buffy knew one of the children had said something about another man being at the door.  
  
“Hey there.  Will. . .”  And just by the tone of her voice, Will knew she wasn’t comfortable at all.  
  
Will stepped through the front door, holding her small hand in his.  Buffy smiled at him, her eyes sparked with light she only shared with him.  “Ah, Riley, this is someone I want you to meet.  My husband, Will.”  
  
He was dumbfounded, completely taken by surprise at her announcement and who it was standing next to her.  Riley knew, when the little boy came hurtling out the door to announce his daddy was on his way, that Buffy had long since moved on, recovering from their failed relationship.  _What the hell?  How. . ._  
  
Riley stared at the two blonds, unable to form a coherent thought, floored by the sight in front of him.  He’d never in his wildest dreams imagined this . . .  
  
“Uh. . . hi, Mr. Stevenson.”  And despite his rank and experience at giving orders, Riley was reduced once again to feeling like an inadequate, bumbling jerk in the face of the older man’s assurance and calm strength.  
  
“Finn.”  Will wasn’t going to pretend, wasn’t going to play nice or throw the boy a bone by being cordial; nor was he going to gloat.  This wasn’t some twisted pissing contest to see who got the girl – or girls, in this case – because he already knew the outcome.  Both girls were his, one chosen and the other a gift, and he’d be damned if any long-errant git was going to change that.   
  
He pulled Buffy close, dropping a kiss on her temple.  His words, though challenging, were delivered in an almost bored tone of voice.  “What brings you here?”  
  
“I. . . . I. . .  Had some leave and since I was back on the West Coast, I thought I’d try and see Buffy.”   Riley stuttered his way around an explanation, feeling incredibly out of place.  
  
“About that. . .   How did you find out I was here?”  Buffy leaned into Will’s side, wrapping her arm around his waist.  
  
“Ah. . . I um.    Well, you know that’s kind of a funny story.”  He leaned back on his heels, a goofy grin covering up his discomfort.  “I was on my way to your house when I saw your mother leaving and I . . . I followed her here.”  He realized, the second the words left his mouth that it was the worst thing he could have said.  Or done.  
  
“So you just followed my mother on the off chance she . . .”  Buffy was floored and she couldn’t believe how colossally stupid he apparently still was.  
  
“Well, I . . .”   He struggled to get himself out of the hole he was digging, but came up with nothing.  _Guess I’m still stupid around her._ Shaking his head, Riley tried to salvage the situation.  “It was wrong, I guess, but I just thought maybe she was going to see you.  And hey, I guessed right.”  
  
“You did, but it still wasn’t a smart thing to do now, was it?”  Buffy stiffened, his actions getting her angrier by the second.  “Just what did you expect, Riley?  That I was gonna be waiting for you to decide you wanted to grow up and take some responsibility?”  
  
“Um. . . well. . . no?”  He was fidgeting now, his hands clenching and unclenching and he tried to stop one leg from shaking with nerves, but he couldn’t.  
  
“Yeah, no.    Not so much.  I was over you long before you left Sunnydale, Riley.  Maybe you didn’t get the message.”  She stood at her full height, hands on hips, glaring up at the big soldier and Will had to hide his smile and his body’s reaction to her outraged indignation and fury.  
  
“Message?  I didn’t get any message from you.”  He looked hopeful for a minute, thinking she was angry at the man standing beside her, but her words quickly disabused him of that notion.  
  
“Dense much?  The message was of the kind where I don’t contact you at all because you’re ancient history.”  Buffy shook her head, watching the play of emotions across Riley’s face.  “You were the one that dumped me, so why should I have wanted anything to do with you?  I was so over you by Christmas of that year, Riley, that I got married at the end of January.”  
  
“What?  How?  Who?”  The questions tumbled from his mouth before he had time to think and this time Will didn’t stifle the guffaw of laughter bubbling up in his chest.  
  
“Oh my god.  You are like Mr. Density.  I got married.  To my husband, Will Stevenson, before you even left Sunnydale for West Point.”  To his continued spluttering, she threw up her hands and said, “In Vegas, at the Bellaggio.  In a really nice ceremony.”  
  
“What happened to the baby?”  Riley couldn’t wrap his head around any of this, and he knew it.  
  
“She answered the door.  Her name is Amy and she’s going to be six tomorrow.”  Will checked the door, making sure it was securely closed in case little ears were trying to listen.  He watched his wife as she started to tap her foot against the tiles.  “Not that you would know or care, since this is like the first word I’ve had from you or your family in the last six years.  So again, I ask, why now?”  
  
“I. . .”   He paused, then blurted out, “Look, my timing is bad, I know that, but. . . I . . . I had a hard time in Iraq and I had some time afterward to do some thinking.  I needed to come and see you and to just apologize for the way I behaved and the things I said.”  
  
His words didn’t soften her at all, and Will watched as a hard look crept into her eyes.  “And what, you thought I was gonna be all alone and willing to take you back and . . .   What exactly do you want here, Riley?”  
  
He thought about it for a long moment, trying to come up with something to make her understand what he was doing.  Riley couldn’t though, because he suddenly wasn’t so sure what it was he wanted from her.  “I don’t know.  I thought I did. . . but seeing you again, I‘m not so sure anymore.”  
  
“Well, you’ve seen me.  And Amy for that matter, but she has no clue who you are and it’s going to stay that way, until she’s a little bit older.  So if you were expecting some great wonderful reunion scene, get over it, coz it isn’t happening.”  Buffy leaned back into Will, relaxing when his arms stole around her waist, his nose nestling in the back of her hair.  
  
For the first time since Will had emerged from the house, Riley took a really good look at the two of them together and his heart fell.  And he realized, that he had come back with the notion, albeit a bit unformed, of saving her from her dreary life, not realizing that it might not be the way he pictured it.   
  
Buffy was happy – so happy she glowed – and very much in love with her husband.  Too weird that it was their former English teacher, but it was the truth.  He took a step back, nodding his head in acceptance.  “I’m sorry. . . I handled this very badly.  I just. . . you’re right, I was coming back to rescue you.  Only I should have done it a long time ago.  I’m sorry.  Sorry for a lot of things I said and for just about everything I did then.  You’re right.  It’s not fair to your daughter that I came here unannounced.”  He paused, staring down at his boots for a moment.  “I’ll go.  I’ll, ah, leave my contact information at the high school, in case you ever need me for anything.”  
  
He turned and walked down the short flight of steps, his back ramrod straight.  Halfway down the walk, he pivoted on his heel and looked back at them standing there.  “Just one question before I go . . .  Would it have mattered back then, if I hadn’t been such an idiot?”  
  
Buffy looked at Will, not even sparing Riley a glance, and said, “No, Riley, it wouldn’t have made a difference at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so sad to see this one go, you guys have no idea. I loved the story and the characters and what started out as something that was supposed to be relatively simple and angst-free turned into a real love story.


End file.
